The Engagement Effect
by godfatherambs
Summary: The aftermath of Johnny and Lulu's wedding ensues. Playing around with yet another silly lie, Jason and Elizabeth find themselves coming to terms with the fact that the next logical step in their relationship is the last one they want to take.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Twelve Weddings.

In the last three months, Elizabeth had attended twelve weddings – one every damn Friday or Saturday evening – with Jason on her arm. He would have made a much better date had he not complained so much about wearing a tux, something she would never understand because he looked incredibly handsome in a tie. He didn't have to worry about panty lines or the cellulite on the back of his thighs making an appearance or having too much champagne and tripping over his high heels.

Ha.

Jason Morgan in high heels.

She'd have to fill him in on that visual later on.

He'd probably cry.

Ha.

Jason Morgan crying.

Weddings were just too fun.

"Why are you smiling like that?" her handsome, non-high -heel -wearing -date asked, leaning over and sliding his arm on the back of her chair.

She giggled softly as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Oh, nothing," she sighed, giggling again. "I just love weddings."

He groaned, his mouth hitching atin the side as the groan became a growl, and she couldn't fight the image of comparing him to a dog.

Ha.

Jason Morgan, the Pound Puppy.

God, she'd certainly had way too much champagne.

"I said weddings," she teased him, patting him on his thigh. "Other people's weddings. Not ours."

"Here we go again," he muttered, grabbing his glass of scotch from the table.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to have this argument yet again. He was the one who had to get all high and mighty at Johnny and Lulu's wedding funeral and insist that he didn't want to marry her, which forced him into a silly little trap. His own doing. Not hers. Though she had to admit it had been so damn funny to see the look in his eyes – how he lost that stupid happy twinkle and clearly regretted ever pulling her away from the party.

What happened _after_ she announced their pretend engagement was not her fault.

No, she hadn't asked Lulu to cut the band off in the middle of some cheesy nineties pop song, practically rushing the stage like some crazed fan to scream at the top of her lungs that her _bestest_ – oh yeah, she'd used that exact word – friends were now engaged too. And then she added an over zealous congratulations to the future Mr. and Mrs. Jason Morgan, and the entire room erupted into applause. There was a table of warehouse employees that even stood up and hooped and hollered, and Jason's face turned so red that, and he probably didn't breathe for a solid five minutes.

But that was not Elizabeth's fault.

And neither was the fact that Lulu had been dropping off tons of wedding planning material, so much that it seemed to find it's way everywhere in the penthouse. Jason's desk. The coffee table. Beneath the pool table. Bookshelves. Microwaves. The bedroom. And one morning – Elizabeth had no idea how – Jason had pulled some bridal magazine from beneath a gallon of milk in the fridge.

Seriously, it wasn't Elizabeth's fault.

She tried to explain that she had spilled something in the fridge and figured the stupid magazine could soak it up, only she'd forgotten and left it there, and he just stormed out of the kitchen, muttering something about hiring a maid.

So yeah, moving in together hadn't gone as smoothly as Elizabeth hoped, but she was trying. She thought it would be easy, a simple transition of books mixing together and underwear sharing the laundry basket, but it was much, _much_ harder.

They had practically lived together before sex, so why was it so hard after sex?

Ha.

The Faux-Engagement.

Or the F.E. as she had taken to calling it.

Unfortunately, her Faux Fiancé or F.F. hadn't taken such a liking to it.

And none of this was her fault.

Lulu made the announcement, and seeing as no one in Port Charles ever thought Jason Morgan would actually get married, it was hot gossip. There'd even been a blurb in the society pages of the paper, and his poor head had really spun at some quote from his grandfather about how he always knew Elizabeth Webber would be the one to make Jason an honest man. She was too busy feeling all starry-eyed that the crotchety old man actually thought that, and Jason had practically ruined it by whining that he'd always been an honest man.

Of course when she tried to explain that honest man meant you didn't bang whores all over town, he reminded her of her own previous endeavors, and well, so much for being happy and engaged.

"Will you stop smiling like that?" Jason murmured quietly, pressing his lips to her temple.

Ha.

She really was happy and engaged, but not really engaged.

At least she was happy.

"I just love weddings," she sighed again, tipping her head towards him. "I mean, look at them. Ritchie is so damn happy, and she's beautiful, and they love each other."

"She's pregnant," he reminded her, shaking his head as he took another sip of his drink.

"The baby was made out of their love," she shot back, knowing how silly and ridiculous it sounded.

Especially when the baby was partly the reason this wedding was so rushed. Hopefully Ritchie learned not to bang the Mayor's daughter in the bathroom at Jake's anymore. Well, technically it was okay now, but maybe for future reference he'd use a condom.

Besides, she really believed Ritchie liked this girl. Sure, they'd only been together a few months and were fighting lots of statistics. They hadn't lived together even before the sex even, so they were in for a hell of a time that would clearly rival Jason and Elizabeth's.

But they loved each other.

Or at least she liked to think so.

Ritchie had never looked at Elizabeth like that, and it had been a running joke among everyone for years that she was the only girl he ever loved.

Ha.

Boys were so dumb.

"What happened to my cynical, anti-love girlfriend?" he teased, his breath hot against the side of her face.

She pursed her lips as she turned to face him, her cheeks flushing when their eyes met, and instead of saying something stupid like most men would, Jason's eyes softened and they just stared at one another.

Ha.

He was so in love.

Ha.

Aw, shit.

What if he really did want to get married?

Ha. Ha. Ha. – _NO._

Damn weddings.

Sighing, she grinned as he kept his eyes on hers and took another swig of scotch.

Oh well, at least he'd get all drunk and stupid, and they could pretend this F.E. stuff was non-existent, which was easy since she'd be too busy taking advantage of him.

**********

Weddings were so ridiculous.

Itchy clothing, frilly dresses, over-priced alcohol, and dancing.

God, dancing was the worst, and he'd done more than his fair share in the last three months. He wouldn't have done any if Elizabeth wasn't so damned persistent about it, but it wasn't like he could tell her no about anything.

That very fact was the reason they were in this damned mess in the first place.

All these weddings and all these ideas, and her crying in the church and giggling all night at the reception – he just knew one day he was going to get a call to meet her at St. Timothy's or in the park or at the Metro Court, and he'd find her all dressed in white and his tux would be waiting, and she'd be all let's get married.

He would just die if that ever happened.

It wasn't like he'd humiliate her by leaving her at the altar or refusinge to come, so he'd have to show up and he'd have to marry her, and then he'd hate himself forever.

"You alright?" Elizabeth asked, tipping her head back and looking up at him. She gently raked her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as they swayed, her face filled with concerned. "You look really mad."

Jason hesitated, debating about telling her the truth, but then stopped when he _really_ looked at her. He'd never admit it, but every single day – every time he looked at her, she was more beautiful than the last, and nothing would ever top Elizabeth Webber in a dress.

Or Elizabeth Webber in blue jeans.

Or Elizabeth Webber in her underwear.

Or Elizabeth Webber naked.

Ha.

The last was most definitely the best.

"You look beautiful tonight," he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. He shivered at the heat that burst between their lips, slowly pulling her away from the dance floor. "Let's go get some air."

Her eyebrows arched as she laughed, knowing well enough what was coming. Jason didn't say a word as he grabbed them a couple of drinks from a waiter, tossing his head towards the doors.

Okay, so maybe weddings weren't _all_ bad.

They'd been to so many in the past three months that they had to find a way to stay entertained. It was boring enough having Elizabeth drag him through Wyndam's, clucking her tongue about everyone registering for overpriced gifts. And he couldn't stop himself from pointing out that she would do the same damn thing if she could, and well, yeah, needless to say that opened the door to the damn F.E. – oh yeah, she had him calling it that too.

He'd been royally pissed at Johnny's wedding, so pissed that he almost left, but knew it would upset Elizabeth, and she'd cryied – and see? He just couldn't tell her no, so he went with it. He figured that Johnny and Lulu would laugh the next day when they explained the truth, except he forgot just what kind of woman Johnny had married.

Only Lulu O'Brien would let her _bestest_ – who the fuck says that? – friends steal the thunder at her wedding.

And now all of Port Charles, Manhattan, and probably the entire East Coast knew Jason Morgan was off the market. It wasn't the off the market part that annoyed him; it was the damn engaged, the stupid ball and chain, the always and forever that was getting to him.

Yeah, he loved being with Elizabeth and having her in his life, but forever?

Forever scared the living shit out of him.

And sometimes, he wasn't sure if he could live with her forever – like he'd imagine the two of them being seventy-years-old and having to brace himself on a cane as he picked up her wet towels, or wearing bifocals as he reorganized his books for the millionth fucking time, and Ggod, it just wasn't pretty.

Elizabeth was though.

She always looked like she did now in those fantasies, and it usually made him feel like a pervert.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, slipping her arms around his waist as she backed him into a bench. She clutched the green material of her dress and inched it up.

"Weddings," he muttered, smoothing his hands up her calves as she straddled him.

"You mean how they secretly turn you on," she teased, laughing as she pressed her lips to his.

Turn on?

No.

Scared?

Yes.

Annoyed?

Very much.

Hated?

More than anything.

Well, until this point of the night.

The first wedding that came after Johnny and Lulu's had been no less than a week after their engagement announcement, and, of course, everyone spent the entire night congratulating him. He got really pissed off again, and Elizabeth got really upset and apologized about a thousand times over, and it wasn't until she dragged him to the coatroom and dropped to her knees that he decided to forgive her.

Clearly, this F.E. had its perks.

Because after that, they usually ended up in some compromising position at ever single wedding, and they'd almost done it in a church, until Elizabeth's morals got the best of her, and she pulled him out to the car.

Tonight was going to be no different.

"You know," she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at the door – at least one of them was paying attention to how in plain sight they really were. "I don't think we'd last through a wedding and a reception. And people notice when the bride and groom disappear."

"Not my fault," he replied, playing with the strap of her dress as he brushed his lips over her shoulder. "You've got to stop wearing silk." She laughed, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. "And I'd have a nice, expensive, open bar just so everyone would get smashed and we could sneak off."

"Oh, really?" she challenged, her voice muffled against his neck. She pulled back to look at him, grinning with amusement. "I thought you said you wanted a BYOB wedding because everyone you know is an alcoholic?"

"Things change," he shrugged, slipping his hand up the skirt of her dress. He groaned when he slipped a finger under her garter, hating her for wearing the damned things because she _knew_ what they did to him.

"Does this mean I get to have my chocolate fountain back?" she asked, sighing her approval as his hand roamed over her thighs.

Elizabeth.

Garter.

Chocolate fountain.

"You can have whatever you want," he replied, leaning forward to take heris mouth in hiers.

"Perv," she muttered, sliding her hands around his neck as she kissed him back. She didn't even fight him when he unsnapped the garter and slid a finger in her underwear, no longer caring that they were out on the terrace for anyone who came outside to see.

Elizabeth.

She so loved him.

He loved garters.

And lace.

And silk.

And chocolate fountains.

What if she really did want to get married?

She broke the kiss long enough to catch her breath and reach for the glass of champagne he'd grabbed. Grinning, he fought with the lace of her underwear and the silk of her dress. At least she'd get all drunk and silly, and this F.E. stuff wouldn't matter for the rest of the night, which was perfect since he'd be too busy taking advantage of her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jason ducked his head as he stepped into the bedroom and a rolled up newspaper came flying at his head. Elizabeth frowned apologetically as she pulled herself up in bed, holding out a hand for her morning cup of coffee that he always brought her on Sunday mornings; the benefits of a champagne induced hangover.

"Port Charles sucks," she muttered, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, cracking a smile. "This almost makes it better."

"What did the city do to you?" he asked, grinning when he noticed that she'd left the business section on the bed for him.

"It's left me jobless. Broke. Alone. With far too much free time," she pouted, opening her eyes to look at him. "I've been looking for a job for three months, Jason. _Three_ months. This damn city has nothing to offer me and my stupid art degree." Shaking her head, she took a long, thoughtful sip. "What the hell was I thinking? Studying art? Like I was actually going to paint things and people would want to buy them."

"People _did_ buy them," he reminded her, laying the paper out across his lap and skimming the headlines.

"Yeah, but they have to keep buying them," she stressed, her shoulders slumping. "I've almost run out of the money I made from my gallery showing and my severance package." She tipped her head in his direction. "And it's not like I have many bills. You own this place. And I buy what – groceries? A pay-per-view movie every now and then? You won't even let me pay my own damn cell phone bill since we got on that stupid plan together. Where the hell did all my money go?"

Jason cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the paper, knowing it was better to let her rant this out than to actually point out where her money had gone.

"Sure, I've bought a lot of paint supplies and some odds and ends for the penthouse, but it just doesn't add up," she muttered under her breath.

He nodded her along, his eyes lifting in the direction of their bedroom closet – well, _her_ bedroom closet, seeing as what used to house his t-shirts, his jeans, various pairs of boots, and a couple of suits and tuxes was now home to every damn item that Elizabeth Webber owned.

From the time he moved into the penthouse, he always disliked how large the closet was in the master bedroom, and he felt in adequate when he failed to fill it up. It just seemed pointless to have fifty pairs of jeans and ten rows of t-shirt, but Elizabeth, oh, she just loved buying the same pair of shoes in five different colors and five blouses to match.

It was ridiculous.

At first, he tried to let it go, tried to ignore how her clothes started to spill over to his side of the closet and make their way into his drawers, but when he couldn't find a damn pair of pants and t-shirt to wear, it was just too much. So they fought, and she apologized, and went into some huge thing about how shopping made her feel better about being all worthless and unemployed, and he just couldn't be mad at her.

And that was how she got his entire closet.

God, if he didn't like her so much he'd hate her.

"Jason," she whined, dropping her head to his shoulder as she nestled the mug safely between them. "I have to find a job."

"I told you, I would hire you full time-"

"And overpay me," she groaned, pressing her face into his arm. "You can't pay me overtime for sitting in your office and filling out books once a week."

"I'm not just paying you for the books," he teased, kissing her on top of her head.

He tried to get Elizabeth to come more than once a week, but they realized it was difficult enough to have her sitting across from him in a pencil skirt and buttoned blouse for more than five minutes without wanting to clear his desk off.

Yeah, he spent a good three hours by the water cooler when Elizabeth came in, going to his office only after he knew she was done with the paperwork.

She smacked him playfully on the arm. "Yeah, if you're paying me for sex, then you owe me a lot more than what you've already paid me." Laughing, she looked up at him. "I'm serious though, Jason. I have to get a job. A real one. Nothing part-time. No temping. And no waiting tables."

He chuckled at the thought of the one day she'd spent as a waitress at Kelly's. She wasn't one for remembering orders and refilling glasses without knocking them over. By the end of her shift, Georgie and Mike were both ready to pay her to quit. And to top it off, she cried about it for nearly two days.

It was completely awful.

She wasn't much for temping at other offices or running errands, and she'd even dog walked for a couple of weeks, but then one of the mutts chewed up her designer heel, and she was through. He knew she was capable of doing anything she wanted, but it was like she was stilted by the fact that none of these things involved art, and he knew it was making her miserable.

"Just paint," he shrugged.

"Painting doesn't pay bills," she sighed, nibbling her lip.

"Well, you could paint the penthouse," he offered, regretting the words immediately. She'd been talking about color schemes for their bathroom since the day she moved in, and he'd done nothing but cringe and avoid the argument all together.

"And you'll pay me?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. He nodded and she rolled her eyes. "You can't pay me to paint my own home." Sighing heavily, she brought her cup of coffee to her mouth. "I just hate that there's nothing for me to do in Port Charles, you know? I can't teach because I don't have an education degree. I can't freelance because no one really needs any of that kind of work, and I can't get a job at another gallery because there's not one."

"The closet place for me to get a good job is Manhattan, and I hate the city. It's busy and has dirty subways and people that dress way better than me." She grinned at her own joke. "I just wish I could find something here that I love. It's so frustrating." She pressed her lips to the warm mug. "What kind of town doesn't have a place for art?"

"You could make one," he said simply, giving her a serious look when she laughed. "You could lease the old gallery, Elizabeth."

Every time they were downtown, walking or at a red light, her gaze would always fall to the empty building, the place that she'd love so much for so many years, and he almost hated her boss for moving to Manhattan.

She scoffed, throwing the covers back and getting out of bed. "I think all that whiskey you've been drinking every weekend has gone to your head," she said, starting for the bathroom door, coffee in hand. "I'm broke. And unemployed. And just not in the position to do any of that."

She closed the door before he could argue, and he turned back to his paper with a sigh, hoping she would find _something_ that made her happy.

Because without that, what was there to keep her here?

**********

"You're surprisingly quiet today," Lulu murmured, looping her arm through Elizabeth's as they stood next to a rack of designer jeans.

On sale designer jeans.

Unfortunately, she'd checked her bank account balance before meeting Lulu for brunch and shopping, another Sunday tradition, which she hadn't minded in the beginning. Except now she was down to $78.84 and everything would be gone. Elizabeth frowned and hung a pair back on the rack.

Being poor was _so_ hard, and it was wearing on her sanity.

That money would buy her gas and food for the next week, maybe two, but it meant no expensive lattes (sure, her boyfriend was in the coffee business, but sometimes she just couldn't stop herself) and no stopping at the flashy sale signs.

"Exhausted, I guess," Elizabeth murmured, wrinkling her nose in pretend disgust as she backed away from the rack. "I'm so relieved wedding season seems to be over. The next wedding is like six months away for some guy Jason does business with. I don't see why I have to go, but Jason says if he has too, so do I."

"The mayor of New York City's nephew," Lulu chimed in cheerfully, reminding Elizabeth of her ability to memorize her and Johnny's social calendar for months and months on end. "He's done a lot of business for them in Manhattan. And it's always good to have politicians on your side – well, that's what my father says anyway."

She paused, eyeing a gorgeous green sweater that almost made Elizabeth foam at the mouth. "Wedding season isn't exactly over," she pointed out not-so-subtly. "If you and Jason could pick a date, you could beat the mayor's nephew and his fiancé to the altar."

"Yeah," she grunted, running her fingers over the sweater and swooning over how the fabric felt beneath her fingertips.

She and Jason had tried time and time again to tell Johnny and Lulu the truth, but they failed miserably each time. They were both so damn excited that it was almost as if they were getting married all over again, and even when Jason took Johnny to Jake's or Elizabeth took Lulu shopping, they couldn't break the news.

They were terrible friends.

Who actually went on with an engagement that was supposed to be a joke?

Why couldn't Johnny and Lulu have gotten married on April Fools Day?

Ha.

Maybe she should suggest that to Jason.

"You've been engaged for three months," Lulu sighed, throwing her arm over her shoulder. "And you're still not wearing your ring, which I understand. I wasn't too fond of the ring that John first gave me, but it's your engagement ring. You _have_ to love it."

"We just moved in together," Elizabeth reminded her, rolling her eyes when she glanced down at Lulu's left ring finger, where her sparkly wedding band was nestled against the very gorgeous diamond ring Johnny had proposed with. "Still mixing our clothes together to do laundry and getting into the routine of making dinner instead of ordering out. We're not-"

"Oh, John and I never mixed our clothes until we lived together, and I find something so romantic about finding his t-shirts in with mine or even our underwear," she cut in, a silly smile on her face. "I just love being married."

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, frowning heavily as she lifted the sweater from the rack and held it against her body. She knew without trying it on that it would have been a perfect fit, something she was still trying to find with Jason.

Sure, living with him was probably the best decision they'd made since they became a couple, but there was still so much balance they lacked, and they weren't ready to get married, especially when they were up against Johnny and Lulu. They fucking loved being married, which only made Jason and Elizabeth hate the idea even more.

Well, at least it did Elizabeth.

Mostly because Lulu was the _perfect_ wife.

She enjoyed cleaning; polishing furniture, doing dishes, and vacuuming. All things that Elizabeth could only do when Jason royally pissed her off, and, unfortunately for the both of them, he'd yet to go that far since they moved in together. Hence, the maid.

And she could cook, like really cook in a way that made Elizabeth wonder if she'd gone to culinary school or something in secret, but Lulu just laughed and said that a wife had to feed her husband. Elizabeth could make a bowl of cereal and spaghetti from a jar, but she tended to overcook the noodles, and that was where she drew the line. And she couldn't fathom feeding Jason takeout Chinese and pizza for the rest of their lives.

Oh, and the worst was that Lulu didn't mind not working. It didn't bother Elizabeth so much, but it was that she was so content in _letting_ Johnny take care of her. Her mindset was that, as the wife, she cooked, cleaned, and tended to her husband's every need, and, in return, he provided for her in every possible way. And sometimes that way meant a new pair of high heels with a fancy name scribbled on the sole.

Honestly, Elizabeth had never been a truly independent woman. Johnny and Jason had been looking after her since they were kids, but she always had an identity outside of that; she was witty and sassy, a damn good artist on a good day, and she could take care of herself financially. It was mostly emotionally where she lacked, but what person didn't thrive on a good, deep connection?

Yeah, she had that with that Jason, and she wouldn't give that up for anything, but she couldn't let him support her completely. Lulu was so settled, so ready and willing to have babies and a future, and Elizabeth was just terrified of it all. She wanted her own money, her own place in their relationship, and her own identity. How could she keep any of that when she could barely hold onto it now?

And at least, Lulu was good at being a housewife and would probably be the best damn doting mother that ever walked the earth. Elizabeth would have sucked, completely, wholeheartedly sucked at being any of the things that Lulu was, and sadly, that was what was required of a wife.

She was in her mid-twenties, unemployed, and living off her rich boyfriend. Seriously, what did she have to offer someone?

Frowning, she turned around and caught herself in the mirror, the green sweater still draped over her. It looked absolutely perfect next to her skin tone and dark curls, and there was just no way for her to pass it up.

She needed _this_ sweater, and she was willing to ignore the seventy dollar price tag to have it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You're up early," Jason murmured, coming through the kitchen doorway as he fumbled with his tie.

Elizabeth grinned as she looked up from her magazine. It really wasn't right that seeing him in a tie did such things to her. "I told you yesterday I lined up some work with the temp agency again," she replied, taking a sip from her coffee as he grabbed the mug she'd already made for him and slid into the chair beside her.

"Yeah, but you hated working for them," he reminded her, smiling as she motioned for him to face her so she could adjust his tie.

"I need a job," she sighed, chewing her lip, hoping they could avoid having this discussion again.

She knew she should be grateful that she had a boyfriend who was understanding about her losing her job and wasn't pressuring her into working somewhere she hated, but she was tired of trying to explain why this was so important to her. And she surely wasn't going to tell him about her bank account that currently stood at a sad balance of seventy-two cents.

It was Lulu's fault that she had to have that latte at the mall.

She could justify the seventy dollar sweater because it looked even better on than she imagined and Jason had loved it when she wore it to dinner the other night. Though, honestly, she could tell he was more excited to get her out of it.

Coffee, however, was not justifiable seeing as her boyfriend bragged about having the best damn beans on the EastWest Coast, and they were hers for the taking.

"And before you say it," she warned, arching her eyebrow as she straightened his collar and smoothed out his tie, "working for you is not an option."

"Whose fault is that?" he asked, smirking as he reached for his coffee mug.

"You took an advantage of an employee," she teased, her cheeks growing flushed. She turned back to her magazine, trying to ignore the way he'd called her into his office _four_ times the other day when she stopped in to do some filing he said he'd needed done.

Yeah, apparently it wasn't papers that needed filed.

"I don't remember you complaining," he replied, sliding his arm over the back of her chair and leaning over to kiss her neck.

"I don't think I was given a chance to resist," she said, her eyes fluttering closed beneath his lips. "Can't you see I'm trying to read?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, nuzzling the side of her face as his eyes shifted to the magazine. He groaned and sat up, shaking his head. "You're turning me away for a wedding magazine?"

She laughed as she pushed back her chair and got up. "I'm turning you away because I have to leave," she replied, smacking him playfully in the shoulder with the magazine. "And don't you know that deciding whether to have a cupcakes or a traditional wedding cake is a big deal?"

"What's it matter?" he asked, frowning as she dropped the magazine to the table. His lips curled in disgust at the photograph of perfectly lined up cupcakes on a platter. "It'll get eaten either way."

"Cupcakes are casual," she shrugged, rolling her eyes at herself as she quoted the article. "And a traditional cake – you know, fondant and the little groom and all that is just – well, traditional."

He sighed as he got up from the table. "People will eat either one and not care," he replied, flipping it closed and walking away. "And the groom will still shove it in the bride's face."

"Uh-uh," she argued, clucking her tongue as she narrowed her eyes at him. "No groom is shoving cake in this bride's face."

"It's _tradition_," he mocked, emptying his mug in the sink and turning to look at her.

"It's ridiculous," she said seriously, not understanding why a man would think it was okay to shove a piece of cake into a woman's face on her wedding day.

Not when she'd paid to have her damn makeup done.

Not when she was wearing a silk, designer gown.

And definitely not when everyone was going to take pictures.

"Do it and die," she warned, sliding her arm around his waist and stretching to press her lips to his.

"I think I'll take my chances," he muttered, pulling her against his chester and spinning her around so that her back was against the cabinet.

"Consider this fair warning, Jason Morgan," she replied, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "I will ensure that you regret it…should it ever actually happen."

"I don't see what the big deal is," he shrugged, brushing his lips over her cheek towards her ear. "I like cake. And icing. And _you_."

"Jason," she groaned, shivering beneath his warm breath.

"Yeah," he whispered, gently pulling her earlobe between his teeth.

"You, uh, you can eat cake off of me anytime," she hissed, trying to stop his hands when one went up her blouse and the other started to climb up tug up her skirt. "But not…on my wedding day."

"I'll let you eat off me too," he teased, groaning against her neck when her phone rang. "Do not answer-"

"I have to," she interrupted, reluctantly pulling herself out of his arms and slipping her phone from the pocket of her pencil skirt. "It's Lulu, and she's probably calling about tonight."

It had taken Lulu an entire three months to set up house with Johnny, and she'd insisted on having a house warming party when all was said and done. Jason considered it an excuse to get more overpriced gifts, and Elizabeth teasingly reminded him that one day he could be on the receiving end, and the poor guy practically keeled over at the thought of leaving his beloved penthouse.

She had no idea what she was going to do with this man.

"Seriously," he grunted, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"And you are going to be late," she pointed out, trying to ignore the fact that she had just traded in quickie morning sex to take a phone call from the most annoying person she knew – but loved. Sadly, she did love Lulu, even if most days she had no idea why. "Hello?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Hang on a second," she murmured into the phone. She covered the mouthpiece and looked at Jason. "I can come by on my lunch."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling at the thought, but quickly brushed it off. "I have a meeting I have to take."

"During lunch?" she asked curiously, knowing that he usually kept an hour or longer open in the afternoons. They'd become all too privy to afternoons spent on his very sturdy desk.

"Yeah. New client and all that," he shrugged, rushing over to kiss her. "I better get going. Do you need me to pick you up tonight?"

She shook her head, frowning at his sudden change in attitude, and just knew there was something going on. "I'll meet you there. I have no idea what time I'm working or when I get off. Just remember to take their gift with you."

"Yeah, that fucking two hundred dollar toaster," he muttered under his breath, before hurrying out of the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her phone call, refusing to try and explain why the toaster was very much worth the two hundred dollars. It was very cute and stainless steel and shiny and pressed designs into the bread.

Of course, Elizabeth had insisted on purchasing every dirty stencil she could find, and Jason couldn't find any humor in eating a piece of toast with the words, _bite me_, burnt into the side let alone one with actual sex positions.

So, yeah, it was mostly a gift for Johnny, but Jason stopped Elizabeth from buying a separate one for Lulu.

Men, they really knew nothing about having fun.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said, pressing the phone against her ear as she grabbed her purse from the table, and started for the door. "And no, I didn't forget about bringing some dishes tonight for your party. I've already put in my order at Kelly's."

"Kelly's?" Lulu sighed exhaustedly.

"Yeah," Elizabeth grunted, stopping to grab her mail from Jason's desk. She cringed at the sight of her credit card bill and told herself she'd have to burn it immediately. "How many times do I have to tell you, Betty Crocker? I don't cook."

**********

"Best house warming gift ever," Johnny chuckled, shaking his head as he dug through the toaster box.

Jason nodded in agreement as he sipped his whiskey from Johnny's four hundred dollar decanter that he and Elizabeth had purchased as a wedding gift. He had tried to put his foot down and refuse something so expensive, but she'd told him that you just _had_ to get the bride and groom what they wanted.

Then she'd tried that whole, one day you'll register for expensive things bit, but he reminded her that they didn't need anything so what was there to register for? And then she'd gotten some twinkle in her eye and picked up a damn waffle iron that made food in the shape of Disney Princesses, and he just knew in that moment, he could never marry her because she'd fill their penthouse with the most ridiculous items possible.

"Lulu won't be too happy about some of these though," he clucked, holding up a stencil that said fuck you.

"I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is," he shrugged, craning his neck to look out from the kitchen. Thankfully, Lulu was busy talking to their numerous guests and wouldn't know about their very inappropriate gift.

"Nah, it's perfect. I'll have a hard time topping it, if you two ever decide to actually go through with getting married," he teased, smiling politely when a few guests sauntered into the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Jason asked, ignoring his comment about the lacking state of his engagement. Eventually the truth had to come out, but not at his best friend's housewarming party.

"No fucking clue," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he smiled when the same person made their way back out of the room. "Lulu invited these people. I assume she knows them from the hospital since she's helping out with some of their charity work now. I have no idea, but the guy brought a hell of a nice bottle of scotch with him."

"No complaints necessary then," he replied, looking around for Elizabeth.

The party had started well over a couple of hours ago, and while she was usually late for these types of functions, this was pushing it. He'd already called her four times, and he knew that was more aggravating than anything to her, but he was starting to get worried that something was wrong.

"Fashionably late," Johnny said, grinning at him. "Come on, no one ever expects Elizabeth to be on time."

"Not every woman can be like Lulu," he grunted, rolling his eyes and wondering if his best friend's wife ever drove her husband to insanity. Whether Lulu or Johnny realized it, there was such a thing as too perfect.

"Very true," he laughed, nudging Jason with his elbow.

He started to glare at him, but heard Elizabeth's voice burst through the house, followed by the slamming of the front door. Lulu's head turned towards the sound immediately, her eyes widening in horror, and Jason loved that it was his girlfriend who was finally managing to liven things up.

"Sorry," he heard Elizabeth apologizing to Lulu, her arms filled with several trays of food. "The damn temp agency sent me to the PCPD to work today, and it was awful, and then I was late picking up the order from Kelly's, so Mike had to redo the last couple of trays because they weren't any good by then."

Her eyes shifted to Jason, and he could have sworn her annoyance deepened before turning back to Lulu. "Anyway, I'm really sorry," she continued, forcing a smile at Lulu.

"It's quite alright," she murmured, easing the trays out of Elizabeth's arms. "I'll get these set up. You relax. Have a drink. Later on, you can fill me in on this job of yours. I love your little adventures."

"Yeah," she grunted, her jaw tightening as the blonde made her way towards the kitchen. "Adventures my ass."

"Hey, what happened?" Jason asked, smoothing his hand down her arm and trying to pull her towards the side.

"Long day," she muttered, reaching for his glass. "I'm not going back to that damn temp agency." She took a long swig and pressed the glass to her lips. "I'll sell my ass on the corner first."

"Whoa, okay, slow down," he said, easing the glass out of her hand and looking at her. "What the hell happened?"

She shook her head and shoved her messy curls from her face. "Well, they sent me to the PCPD for filing," she hissed, shoving past Jason and starting onto the back porch, still talking under her breath. "…men needing filing."

"Elizabeth, what happened?" he asked again, grabbing her by the arm and turning her to face him.

"The DA asked me out for drinks tonight," she replied, folding her arms over her chest and backing away from Jason. "He kept saying all this stupid shit about how my _fiancé_ wasn't worthy of such a fine catch, and I swear to God – I just don't – I mean, do men not have any boundaries?"

He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, fighting the urge to go straight to his car and pay the district attorney a quick visit.

"I get it. I have boobs and a vagina, and men love that shit, but there is more to me than a damn short skirt and a pretty mouth," she spat angrily.

"I'll take care of him," Jason muttered, tightening his hand around his glass.

"Oh, it's not just him," she groaned, glaring at him. "You only want me around so you can sneak me in your office for a quickie at a moment's notice."

"Elizabeth, that is not-"

"There has to be some kind of boundaries with us, you know," she interrupted, sliding her hands over her hips. He wasn't sure if she was pissed off at the DA for hitting on her or at her boyfriend for hitting on her or just the entire world in general. "You can't just offer me a job because you want to have sex with me, and you can't just expect-"

"I don't expect anything," he cut in, holding up his hand. "You want it just as much."

"Oh, please. I don't think about sex every five seconds, Jason," she argued, taking a deep breath. "I'm just so aggravated. You know, I get that I'm pretty dependent. That I've always leaned on you and Johnny, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Uh, yeah," he agreed, arching his eyebrows at her.

"And you're always there, always saying thinks like you can work for me, Elizabeth, or here, use my credit card, Elizabeth," she continued to rant, shifting her purse on her arm. She dug around and pulled out an envelope and smacked him in the chest with it. "Boundaries, Jason. Fucking boundaries."

"What the hell…" He trailed off as he opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. "Elizabeth, I can explain-"

"Explain?" she asked, throwing her hands up. "I should file charges against you for committing a federal-"

"You need to calm down," he cut in gently, tucking the letter back in the envelope. "Look, I accidentally opened it when I was going through mail one day, and I just thought-"

"Thought what?" she inquired sarcastically. "Elizabeth is broke and unemployed and clearly incapable of taking care of herself-"

"Yeah, I thought I could help," he shrugged, not understanding why she was so pissed off.

"Help? You help by giving me a place to live, by not giving me any bills to pay," she said angrily. "You _do not_ help by paying my fucking credit card bill, Jason. It's my bill. My shit that I charged and you just don't-"

"I don't understand why you're so mad," he interrupted, feeling defeated. All he wanted to do was help her out, take away the stress of being unemployed and broke.

"You're putting me up in a penthouse, you've got a nice cable package and you're paying the electricity. Hell, I can't even buy groceries without you footing the bill most of the time, and shopping, that was mine. You cannot just pay my bills. It's more infuriating than you hitting on me all the fucking time." She snatched the letter back from his hand and smacked him with it again. "You can't just do this, Jason."

"Well, it's too late-"

"It's not too late," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're going to charge about three grand worth of fucking coffee beans back onto my card, and we're calling it even, and I know it's not really, but I'll live with it." She shoved the letter back at him and started to go inside. "I mean it, Jason, three grand worth of fucking coffee beans."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"This has got to be a joke," Elizabeth said, tying her robe at her waist as she came down the stairs.

Jason tipped his head towards her and looked up from his paper. "What?" he asked coyly.

She grunted as she padded the rest of the way down the stairs and gestured towards the numerous – at least _fifty_ – boxes that were stacked from the door to the oversized chair in the living room. "Jason, are you kidding me?"

"I'm just holding up my end of the bargain," he sighed, grabbing his coffee mug from the table and taking a sip.

"Shouldn't you be hung over or something?" she hissed, smacking the cardboard flap of an opened box. She glared at the packages of coffee beans. "You're fucking kidding me."

"I woke up early," he shrugged, folding his paper and getting up from the couch. "The couch isn't very comfortable."

She cringed, almost regretful of the way she'd opened the door and sent him straight to the couch the night before. In her own defense, he'd laid down and passed out immediately, which was probably her fault too because he spent most of the night sulking and drinking whiskey.

"I see," she clucked, snatching the box cutter from the desk. "You must have been busy."

He flashed a smug grin. "If I'm charging you for coffee beans, I want to make sure-"

"I don't want the damn coffee beans," she interrupted, throwing her hands up when she opened another box. "The whole point was to charge me three thousand dollars and not give me anything seeing as I already have a closet full of-"

"But then how do I explain this surplus of coffee that I've charged a customer for?" he cut in, waving his hand at her. "And I refuse to throw out that many beans. It would be a complete waste and-"

"This is ridiculous," she spat, shaking her head in frustration. "And you know it."

"More ridiculous than you being upset that I paid a bill and-"

"You opened my mail. Not just any mail, but a credit card bill, and what if – what if I was buying porn or something and didn't-"

"You don't buy porn," he interjected, leaning against the back of the chair and looking at her.

God, he was practically laughing in her face.

She was going to kill him.

"Maybe I do. You don't know everything about me, Jason," she challenged, glaring back at him.

"That's what keeps it interesting," he teased, a slow, sexy grin spreading across his face.

It wasn't fair that he knew all her weaknesses.

"If this is your way of telling me that I overreacted," she started, walking over to him, "you could have just let me sit and seethe and-"

"I'm only doing as I was told. You wanted three grand worth of _fucking_ coffee beans-"

"Just stop," she sighed, smacking him gently on the arm. She let her hand run down his arm until it met his. Sure, it hadn't been that long since she'd really touched him, but it still felt like forever. "I know I was upset and I shouldn't have been so…"

"Overly dramatic," he filled in, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. "So controlling and upset and over the-"

"Can it," she warned, arching her eyebrow. "I know I shouldn't have flipped out like _that_, but it still really upset me."

There was no way for him to understand that she'd felt violated when she opened her credit card bill and found that the balance was zero. She didn't mind Jason helping her out; it was what he'd been doing for months now by allowing her to live with him and practically pay for everything, but this was different.

This was her debt; her stress shopping, her overpriced shoes, and her stupid lattes from beans that he didn't ownmake. And while nonet of it necessarily made her a bad girlfriend, it was still embarrassing.

"I've always made my own money. I've always paid my own bills," she continued, relieved when he didn't cut in and remind her of the one time she'd been evicted and forced to move in withon him. "And the clothes and shoes and…I don't know. I guess it's stupid, but they are my responsibility. Mine. And it's not like-"

"I know this is hard for you – to be taken care of," he interrupted gently, "to not have to worry about money and work, but…that's just how it is."

"I know, and I'm trying," she apologized, pressing her face into his chest when he pulled her into a hug. He really did make it impossible to stay angry. "I had a really bad day, and when I opened that bill – I just – I've never needed a man, you know, especially to take care of me, and this is…"

"Difficult, but not impossible," he reminded her, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, nibbling her lip as she leaned into him, hating to admit that she was being a stupid,, insecure girlfriend.

So much of their relationship was out in the open; nothing was hidden or off limits. They knew one another too well to deal with any of the normal issues that existed, but this was hard for her. She trusted Jason with every part of her; her heart, her fears, her painting, her secrets, but this – well, her money was the one thing that wasn't his.

She was such a stupid girl.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch," she muttered, pulling back to look at him. "And I'm sorry I ruined the party for you too."

"Lulu was the host," he reminded her, gently brushing his lips over hers. "It was ruined before I got there."

"Oh, stop," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "She's just a bit of a control freak about things."

"Like someone else I know," he teased, kissing her again.

"I hate you," she murmured against his mouth. "And this is different." She reluctantly pulled her mouth from his to continue. "Lulu likes being taken care of. She likes the safety and the dependency and it just freaks me out." Sighing, she pulled him in the direction of the couch and let herself fall onto the cushions. "I've always been pretty dependent on you and Johnny, but…"

"You've always been able to take care of yourself," he nodded, sitting beside her. He slid his arm over the back of the couch and she settled into the crook of his arm. "I'm not mad at you, unless you meant _all_ of what you said."

"What?" she asked, tipping her head back to look at him.

He arched an eyebrow. "I think you said something about how I wanted you too much."

"I did not," she argued, her cheeks flushing. "And besides, I was pissed off at that damn DA for hitting on me, and whenever I work for you, all you do is hit on me-"

"Because you like it," he pointed out, nuzzling the side of her face. She couldn't help but enjoy the way that he cringed at the idea of another man hitting on her. "And if you didn't give me the eye every time you passed by my office."

"Jerk," she muttered, ducking playfully when he tried to kiss her. "See? You use this wild attraction as a distraction for everything."

"There's nothing to distract you from," he laughed, fumbling with the tie on her robe.

"Oh, right, there's not three grand of _fucking_ coffee beans sitting in our living room," she gestured, sighing exhaustedly. She expected him to counter with the same argument as before, but instead he just looked at her with that loopy grin he wore when he was thinking dirty thoughts.

Or at least she imagined they were dirty.

He was a man.

Was there much else to think?

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"You said _our_," he murmured, grinning crookedly, his eyes soft and warm. "Not in the stupid living room or the penthouse or your damn living room. You said our."

"Are you serious?" she asked, not understanding why he was looking at her like such a dope.

"I think you're going to get used to it," he teased, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth as he pulled her robe free.

Crap.

She really should have put some clothes on before coming downstairs.

"Used to what?" she gasped, not fighting when he pulled her onto the couch so that she was pinned beneath him.

"What's mine being yours," he whispered, shifting his weight over her as he took herhis mouth in hishers.

"Uh-huh," she panted, moaning softly when his hand slipped beneath her legs.

"And what's yours being mine," he said, tracing an intricate path from her mouth to her neck.

"Mmm," she groaned, slipping her hands over his hips and pushing down his sweatpants.

Something told her this wasn't exactly what was meant by that old adage, but she'd damn well take it.

**********

"This is a really good way to spend a Saturday," Elizabeth sighed, curling against Jason's chest as she yawned. She traced the curve of his mouth with her fingertip, grinning when she felt his lips turn upward.

"Would have been a good way to spend a Friday night too," he teased, kissing her fingertips.

"Nah," she laughed, shifting herself over him and propping her chin up on his chest. "Making up is too fun."

He rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, hating that it was impossible to stay mad at her.

No other woman would have gotten away with comparing him to some sleazebag district attorney.

Of course, he wouldn't have paid any other woman's bills either.

It was really her fault that things were so complicated.

"I didn't mean to go all girl on you," she muttered quietly, chewing her lip. "This job stuff. And Lulu. And this stupid F.E. – it's just all…"

"Yeah," he agreed, stroking the small of her back with his thumb.

"You don't even know how many times she brought up the stupid engagement last night," she sighed, hanging her head. "Asking about the ring. And dates. And then she brings it up in front of those damn people she's working with for the charity stuff at the hospital, and they started talking about what a great catch you arewere."

He wasn't going to argue that.

"I just – I'm a terrible liar," she continued, sighing heavily, "so I keep putting her off, and I think it's about time that I just tell her the truth or…"

"Or we register for a lot of really expensive wedding gifts," he offered, causing her to laugh.

"As long as we get a dirty toaster," she replied, burying her face in his chest.

If only she knew that he almost meant it; that there were fleeting moments whenre he wanted to say to hell with it all – usually, he reminded himself he could just _buy_ the overpriced coffee maker or fancy toaster, and theat desire went away.

But sometimes…

Johnny and Lulu were clearly wearing on the both of them.

He smoothed a hand over the side of her face, slipping it beneath her chin to pull her face towards him. "I'm sorry about that bill," he apologized again, tucking her curls behind her ear. "I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries."

She shrugged, nibbling her lip. "Stop saying you're sorry. It's done, and I have three thousand dollars worth of coffee beans waiting to be used."

"Yeah, you can stop charging those damn overpriced lattes," he replied, shaking his head. "My beans not good enough for you, Webber?"

"Open some coffee shops," she challenged, arching her eyebrow. "And don't use it as a ploy to offer me a job."

She knew him so well.

Ha.

Elizabeth in a cute, little, brown barista uniform with some silly hat.

"You're grinning like an idiot," she grunted, glaring at him.

"I was just thinking about how you're not making anyone's coffee but mine," he teased, smiling widely.

She laughed, smoothing her hands over his chest. "I don't make the coffee, Morgan. You do."

"Because you burn everything," he reminded her, thinking of the only time he'd actually let her use the cappuccino maker. It was the last time the poor thing was ever used because she'd managed to jam it with so many coffee beans.

"I can see you laughing at me inside your head, and it's rude," she spat playfully. "You just gave me the manual and-"

"I assumed that since you can read-"

"Oh, ha ha, you-"

"Just stick to painting," he teased, poking her in the side.

"I sure will. Don't think I've forgotten your offer of painting the penthouse. My head's been spinning with possible murals. Like maybe one if giant pansies and-"

"You're ridiculous," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You know, if you weren't so damn neurotic, this wouldn't – ow!" he cried, when she pinched him in the shoulder, her eyes narrowinged.

"I'm not neurotic," she said seriously, preparing to pinch him again. "I just…"

"I _like_ neurotic," he reminded her, lifting his head to brush his lips overto hers. She started to counter his statement, but her lips turned in a pleased smile, and he knew he had her.

"I don't even know how to reply to that," she laughed, dropping her face against his chest. "Only you."

"True," he muttered, running his hand up and down her back. Though he was sure it was more from his soft touch, he tugged the blanket over her when she shivered. "If only you believed me." She mumbled something against his chest, and he didn't even bother to argue when she started brushing her lips over his skin. "Who's doing the distracting now?"

"I'm just trying to remind you that I _always_ want you," she teased, winking at him as she eased the blanket awatoff her, and started tracing a slow, wet path down his body.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a tiny gasp as she settled between his legs. "You might be right about this making up stuff."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Working on a Sunday?" Johnny muttered, knocking on Jason's half opened office door.

He nodded as he shifted his eyes from the computer screen. "Working on a proposal," he shrugged, sighing heavily as he reread his last sentence.

It was the same sentence he'd read five minutes ago and a half hour before that. He couldn't seem to get past it because he was too focused on everything else.

"You look nervous," his friend said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just this," he lied, not wanting to get into everything that was bothering him.

Sure, he was better friends with Johnny than Elizabeth these days, but they still held a tie to one another, and he didn't want her knowing about any of this.

At least not yet anyways.

"The penthouse was empty so I figured…" he started, trailing off when he realized he was trying to justify being in his office to Johnny.

"Yeah, those girls love their shopping," he laughed, sitting down across from him and clasping his hands in his lap.

Jason cringed at the thought of Elizabeth buying more clothes, but she'd promised him that morning she was going along for the company – ha! Yeah, right. – and that she wouldn't spend any money. He knew that was mostly because she didn't have any to spend, and he sure as hell wasn't going to offer her any. That door had been opened and she'd kicked it closed, practically knocking him square in the face with it.

"Dude, come on," Johnny sighed, scratching his chin and looking impatient. "I know something is up. You were a little off at the party and now, this – wait, what are you working on a proposal for?"

Clearing his throat, he shifted uneasily in his chair. "Well, I told you that I was thinking about – you know…" He shook his head, wondering if Johnny would talk him out of it, if maybe he should let his best friend tell him this wasn't a good idea. "I'm just hoping it doesn't backfire, and I figure if I go into this with a set plan, there's no way it can be refused."

"Put up a fight that can't be rebuffed," he grinned, nodding excitedly. "That's the ruthless business partner I know."

"Yeah," he murmured, knowing there was nothing ruthless about this. Pushing aside any nervous thoughts, he turned back to the screen and read his last sentence yet again. He started to type, but realized that Johnny was still hanging out in the room, a silent way of letting his best friend know their conversation was not over. "What is it?"

"Well, look, Lulu wanted me to make sure everything is going okay," he said hesitantly, smoothing his hand over his tie. "I think she's worried that you two aren't getting along or something."

"Me and Lulu?" he asked dumbly, leaning back in his desk chair.

"No, you and Elizabeth," he replied, shaking his head at himself when Jason just looked at him. "You two have been engaged for a few months now, and Lulu expected some overnight wedding like she and I had."

Son of a bitch.

The fucking F.E.

He didn't understand what the big fucking deal was. People got engaged all the damn time and they took as long as they wanted to figure things out. Not everyone was like Lulu; so determined, so obsessed with getting down the aisle, and not everyone was willing to wait so anxiously at the altar. It took enough time to figure out the damn doilies and the menus and where to live and what kind of furniture to buy, let alone actually get to the actual ceremony. And it was going to take an exceptionally long time to get to one that was never actually happening.

Fucking stupid F.E.

"I told her that you and Elizabeth are going to move at your own speed with this, but she says that whenever the wedding comes up Elizabeth gets really nervous and…" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry, I know you don't want to hear about this. Lulu won't give it a rest,, and I keep telling her that you and Elizabeth are very different from us-"

"Yeah, we are," he cut in flatly, giving no argument to that.

Lulu was June Cleaver, whereas Elizabeth was more Lucy Ricardo. Of course, neither him nor Johnny really fit into the male role that went with either of those women, but it took a unique mean to take on such overbearing women.

"Hey, as long as I get to be the best man when it goes down," Johnny laughed, shrugging half-heartedly, "I'll wait years for you two to tie the knot."

"Yeah," Jason grunted, narrowing his eyes at the computer screen.

Not fucking happening, pal.

"Is it gonna be years?" he asked, leaning forward, his face hopeful that it would be the opposite.

"Did your wife tell you to ask that?" he growled, keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Well, yeah," Johnny answered honestly, "but I've been wondering too, I guess."

Jason rolled his head from side to side. "Can we, uh, talk about this later? I really need to get this proposal done."

"I understand," he muttered, pushing himself up from the chair. His eyes flicked to the computer screen and he frowned. "You sure about doing this? It could turn out really ugly."

Things were already complicated enough, and if this didn't make things better, then he wasn't sure what quite would. He knew that Johnny was on his side when it came to taking a gamble with the business, expanding their horizons, and trying to spread the wealth of their company, but his friend had good reason to worry. He'd nearly put the whole damn company under by trying to be creative, but Jason made sure this was not only safe, but came out of his pocket as well.

"Or," Jason countered, not sure if he could survive the kind of ugly Johnny was referring to, "it could be just what we needed."

**********

Elizabeth was going to fucking _kill_ herLulu.

Frowning heavily, she smoothed her hands over her waist and tossed her curls over her shoulder, allowing one long look in the mirror in front of her.

"Are you coming out or not?" the cheerful blonde called out, rapping gently on the dressing room door.

"Just a moment," she sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before pulling the door open.

"That's it," Lulu breathed, her eyes widening as Elizabeth stepped in front of her. Her mouth curved upward in an all too pleased smile, and her eyes filled with tears. "That is your wedding dress."

"Yeah…" she whispered, swallowing hard as she turned to face her reflection in the surrounding mirrors, trying to ignore the image that was staring back at her.

Her breath hitched the moment she'd pulled the dress up and called Lulu inside to fasten the pearl buttons up the back. She'd sent her away immediately, not sure how she felt about finding a dress that actually felt right, and she was even more embarrassed to be standing in front of her teary-eyed friend right now because she felt the same exact way.

This was _the_ dress.

The one that little girl's dream about when they are wearing their mother's clothes and staring in the bedroom mirror with a lopsided tiara on their head.

The one that had been in her mind from the very second she allowed herself to imagine her own wedding as a teenager, and it was the one that would never go away.

The one that she dreamed about wearing on a dance floor in the arms of the man she loved, not caringrying that she had two left feet and no rhythm to guide her.

Nothing mattered when she was in this dress.

"Oh, Elizabeth, this is-"

"Yeah," she cut in again, running her fingers over the beaded and lace bodice, committing each centimeter of fabric to memory.

The softness of the lace, the smoothness of the silk, the shininess of the beads.

It was absolutely perfect in everyway.

"You have to buy this dress," Lulu sighed, resting her hands gently on Elizabeth's shoulders. "You look like an absolute angel. You wouldn't need to have it taken in or anything. You could put on a veil right now and go straight to the church. It's-"

"A little to early to think about dresses," she interrupted, chewing her lip as she caught the blonde's eye in the mirror. She raked her shaky hands through her curls. "No date. No caterer. No cake. Not even a song yet."

"You can start it with the dress," she pressed, grinning widely. "This could be the swift quick to put all your other plans into motion. Sure, I waited to buy the dress last, but…"

Elizabeth tuned Lulu out, ignoring her ramble about matching shoes and jewelry and up-dos. None of that mattered because not even the perfect dress could change what wasn't going to happen.

Had she known that this was planned forhow their Sunday afternoon – that Lulu's secretive expedition had been wedding dress shopping – Elizabeth would have never left the penthouse.

Except that now, standing in the middle of the bridal shop downtown in this dress, she wouldn't have given it a second thought. Even if it was a moment that she had to save in her memory, to wear something this beautiful, to feel like it belonged to her, it was better than not having it at all.

Sighing, she turned slightly to the left, admiring the intricate pearl buttons that weaved beautifully down the back to where the skirt pooled out at her hips.

It just wasn't fair.

"Just imagine how you'd look next to candlelight or and on a dimly lit dance floor," Lulu continued to coo, gently squeezing Elizabeth's shoulders.

"Mmhmm," she murmured, pursing her lips together as she frowned at her reflection. "I, uh, I should change. We're supposed to meet Johnny and Jason for dinner at the grille."

"Elizabeth, you can't honestly tell me you're not going to buy that dress!" she exclaimed, shaking her head at her. "You have to. It's perfect."

"I know," she sighed, nibbling her lip as she took one last look at herself in the mirror. "But-"

"No buts," the blonde cut in firmly, holding up her hand. "Sure, you haven't planned anything else. And you refuse to wear your ring. And you may have to hog tie Jason to the altar at this point, but…"

She hung her head, knowing that _if_ she ever actually made it down the aisle, Lulu was right. It would be against Jason's will, and that wasn't fair.

She'd gotten them both into this whole mess.

"Elizabeth, come," she begged seriously, following her when she started for the dressing room.

She shook her head and slipped into the room, turning around slowly to look at her friend. "Lulu," she murmured hesitantly, all but pleading with her to stop, "I can't." She took a deep breath as she ran her fingers over the bodice one last time before turning around and motioning for Lulu to unclasp the buttons. "I just can't."

**********

"Well, this discussion is quite intriguing," Johnny sighed, balling his napkin up and throwing it onto his plate, "but Lulu and I have to get going." He shot his wife a look that she seemed completely oblivious to, and it was only when he pushed back his chair and started to get up that she seemed to catch on.

Jason nodded, chuckling under his breath at how awkward the dinner had been. He and Johnny had gone over the proposal, and the girls had been late and unusually quiet and not even a few drinks seemed to loosen anyone's tongue.

"I got it," he sighed, leaning forward and grabbing the bill before Johnny had the chance to get it.

"I was just going to put it on the company card," he joked, leaning over and poking Elizabeth in the shoulder. "You're such a bore, Webber."

"Shut up," she muttered flatly, the corner of her mouth hitching into a smile. It was a relief to see some kind of response from her. "It was a long day."

"No sales at the mall?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Is it possible that nothing caught your eye?"

"Oh, something caught her eye," Lulu clucked, flashing a secretive smile as Johnny pulled her chair out.

"What'd you buy?" Jason asked, pleased to have something he could talk to her about.

Every question he asked only brought about one worded answers, and she hadn't even ordered the chocolate cake for dessert like she always did. She didn't even want to get a piece to take home and fill the bed with crumbs with later on that night.

"Nothing," she answered, dropping her eyes back to the table.

Lulu sighed. "I tried to convince her, but…"

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded, smoothing her hands over her knees, her eyes narrowed at the tablecloth. "Besides I'm strapped for cash these days anyways."

"You know if you wanted-" Jason started, but she cut him off with athe flick of her eyes to his face. "I'll get the bill and we can go." He looked over at Johnny. "I'll see you tomorrow at work. Have a nice evening, Lulu."

"You too," she murmured, giving Elizabeth a warm smile that she forcefully returned.

Swallowing hard, she looked at Jason as they walked away. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. That woman can be so damn…" She trailed off and hung her head.

"Irritating," he filled in, reaching over and placing his hand on the back of her neck. She groaned pleasantly when he squeezed the base of her neck, working the tension away with his fingertips. "Frustrating. Fucking annoying."

"And to think, I'd thought you'd warmed up to her," she laughed, leaning towards him, a lazy smile on her face.

"I always forget how annoying they are," he scowled, watching them disappear out the front door of the restaurant. "How he orders her drinks and her food and she tries to cut him off when he starts drinking. I kept fucking waiting for them to start cooing like those fucking dogs in that Disney movie-"

"Lady and the Tramp," she laughed, reaching over to pat him on his leg. "I knew you paid more attention than you let on."

"You made me watch it," he reminded her disgustedly.

"If I remember," she corrected, "we only watched part of it." She leaned over as he dug his money clip from his pocketwallet and tossed down enough twenties for the bill. "And, in case you forgot, you ordered my drinks _and_ my entrée for me tonight."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Only you and Jason would leave a friend to drink alone," Johnny sighed, shaking his head as he took a swig from his half-filled beer bottle.

"Shut it, O'Brien," Elizabeth replied, sliding onto the barstool beside him. "I was busy."

"Doing what exactly?" he pried, arching an eyebrow at her. "Sitting on Jason's couch?"

"You're such an asshole," she hissed, grinning as Coleman approached her with a beer and a shot of tequila. "A man after my own heart."

"Yeah, it's too bad you ran off and let Morgan put would a ring on your finger," the bartender laughed, winking at her.

Johnny reached over and grabbed Elizabeth's left hand. "There's no ring, pal. There's still time to whisk her away."

"What kind of guy gives away his best friend's girl?" Coleman asked, shaking his head.

"The kind that likes to see Jason squirm," Johnny replied, causing Elizabeth to roll her eyes. "I don't think he realizes what a catch he's got in our girl."

"Okay, that's enough from the peanut gallery, you nerds," she interjected, pelting Johnny in the side of the head with a bar nut as she waved Coleman away. "Seriously, how many times do I have to hear about this non-existent ring?"

She frowned and took a swig of her beer, mentally tallying up how many times she'd heard similar statements from Lulu in the last week. The more people brought up the fact that she and Jason were engaged sans a giant diamond on her left hand, the more the weight of marriage seemed to loom.

"I'm just teasing you, but honestly, he proposed without a ring," he reminded her, causing her to cringe. "Sure, he gave you that necklace, but-"

"Aren't you a recovering alcoholic?" she cut in, eyeing his beer as she tossed back her shot. She enjoyed the way the liquor burned her throat like it was cutting through everything around her.

"And you call me an asshole?" he asked, finishing off his beer.

Ha.

He could be such a boy sometimes, and that made it so easy for her to change the subject without him realizing it.

"I say it with love," she shrugged, laughing as she waved at Coleman to bring over a round of shots.

It was nice to be able to hang out with Johnny and things not be strange or uncomfortable considering where they'd all been a few months ago. Granted, things were stormy for a while after Johnny kissed her, but it didn't take Jason long to understand that he was being typical O'Brien, reacting on an emotional whim, and not caring who he took down with him. Thankfully, Lulu had helped out this darker side, and he groaveled until things were okay with his friends again.

Secretly, Elizabeth cringed at the thought of ever being in love with him because he was just so not…Jason.

Ha.

Not that she'd ever admit that out loudallowed.

God, she was such a stupid girl.

"So, where is my doting fiancé?" she asked, grinning a thanks to Coleman as he slid two shots across the bar.

"Working," Johnny replied, tugging at his collar as he reached for one of the shots. "He's working on some new stuff."

"Yeah," she frowned, chewing her lip as she tapped her finger against the side of the shot glass. "He's been working late all this week."

"Well, this client's new," he shrugged, tossing back the shot. He coughed and smacked his chest as he swallowed, which would have normally made Elizabeth laugh, but now she was just nervous.

Elizabeth had been busier in the last week than she had been in months, doing some graphic work for a hospital charity function Lulu was planning. The damn woman insisted that Elizabeth slave away late every night, and by the time she made it home, Jason was either snoring on the couch or curled up in the covers in bed. It was aggravating enough dealing with Betty Crocker all day, butand then she had to come home to the man who suddenly wasn't bringing her coffee in the morning, or sticking around to sneak a quickie before he went to work.

Hell, she hadn't even stopped by his office in four whole days.

"Shit," she murmured, glancing at Johnny from the corner of her eye before she tossed her shot back.

She couldn't even remember the last time theyshe'd had sex.

"What?" Johnny asked, still tugging at his collar and giving her the urge to reach over and undo a few of his buttons, but she resisted because she knew that wasn't what was making him so uncomfortable.

"Nothing," she replied, scratching at the label of her beer with her thumbnail.

Eventually, lifeves had to get the better of her and Jason. He was busy with work, usually in spurpats that made him work so hard that, he came home and passed out on the couch every night. And she was… - Wwell, she was trying to find something that would make her busy, – and it was going to take time to find that. And in that time, Jason was supposed to continue being the boyfriend who brought her coffee and takeout and had sex with her on his desk.

"How did Lulu get out of this?" she asked, needing to say something that would not only fill the silence, but make Johnny stop fidgeting.

"She said she was tired," he replied, continuing to rock back and forth on his stool. "You two have been working hard. I figured you'd just come home, and then Jason would too, and I'd get stood up."

"I was tired," she said, resting her elbow on the bar and putting her chin in her hand. "I wanted to see Jason. I've been so busy, he's been so busy, and…"

She shrugged, not wanting to get into any of it with Johnny. It's not like he could understand that it was rare for her and Jason to go a day or two without sex, let alone…

God, she still didn't know.

Four?

Five?

This was bad.

"So, is this client a big buyer?" she asked, not quite sure why, but her stomach was churning, butand knowingshe knew it wasn't from the tequila.

"Uh, yeah, it's sort of a branch out. Something Jason's wanted to do for a while, and he sort of got the okay from someone else, and – I, uh, I don't know much. It's his thing. Not mine."

He was fidgeting again, and Johnny O'Brien never fidgeted. His hands were as steady as Jason's when it came to business. They shared the same determination and confidence, whichand it was why they were so successful. Well, that and Jason seized control whenever Johnny made mistakes, but he hadn't done that in a while.

"Sorry, I'm late."

She tipped her head in the direction of Jason's voice, her heart fluttering when she looked him over in his suit. He never wore suits, which was another reason why things with him had been so strange lately.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to her lips before turning to get Coleman's attention.

"Hi," she replied, furrowing her brow when she realized he smelled like liquor. Not the cheap kind either, but the good, overpriced, possibly business dinner kind. "How was work?"

"Work?" he asked, shooting Johnny a look, who promptly slid off the stool and started in the direction of the jukebox.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip and tightened her hand around her beer bottle, telling herself to stay calm. "Jason…"

He sighed heavily, tugging his tie loose as he took his beer from Coleman. The bartender lingered for a second, but even he seemed to understand that something was going on between them. "What's wrong?"

"You were late," she replied, shifting her eyes to his. "And you smell like…whiskey."

"Yeah, I had a meeting over dinner. We had a couple of drinks at the Metro Court before I came here."

"And you couldn't have called?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"No, I figured you could hang out with Johnny and Lulu until I got here. I didn't think-"

"Exactly," she groaned, pushing herself off her stool and grabbing her purse. "I'm just going to go home. I don't know what the hell is going on here with your looks and your secret meetings, but I'm tired and-"

"Whoa, Elizabeth, what's wrong?" he asked, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her towards him. "I'm sorry I'm late, but it was work and-"

"You know what," she sighed, holding her hand up, "we haven't really seen each other in days. I've been putting up with Lulu's shit day after day, telling myself that I can deal with it as long as I get to see you at the end of the day, but you're – you're not there. And I'm trying to keep myself from being all girly and stupid about this, but…"

"I don't even want to know where this is going, do I?" he asked, slipping a hand into his jacket and pullingslipping out a slim stack of stapled papers.

"Well, you're – you're being weird, and you're working a lot, and you're not calling me for lunch. And you're best friend just totally gave you that I'm- not- telling- your- girlfriend- you're- banging -some- other- whore eye-"

"He did not give me that look," he corrected, unfolding the papers and smoothing them out against the bar.

"Yes, he did, and I know that look because you used to give it to him when he was busy sleeping around on every girl he ever dated," she defended, frowning when he thrust the paper at her.

"I was going to ask you to meet me in my office for lunch tomorrow," he continued, shaking the paper at her. "And I figured we could talk about this and have lunch and…" He grinned sneakily. "You've been helping Lulu, and I didn't want to add any more stress on you-"

"So, you're not…" She trailed off as she flipped through the papers, stopping when she saw a familiar address a few pages in.

God, she was an idiot.

Five seconds alone with Johnny and she was all but convinced that Jason was sleeping with some random, nicely dressed whore, and buying her drinks, and getting hotel rooms.

She was such a girl.

"No, I didn't think that. I just – things have been weird between us," she sighed, lifting her eyes to Jason's. "I don't understand."

"I was working really hard on something. Something for you," he admitted hesitantly, pausing long enough to give her a chance to stop him, but curiosity was getting got the best of her. "You've been miserable without the gallery. And I know it goes against every ounce of independence you have, and I wanted to make sure that I could make this happen, and you still be-"

"Wait a second," she interrupted, glancing down at the papers and then back at him. "This is…" She turned a few pages and thrust it back at him. "You bought the gallery."

"Well, you said you weren't in the position to lease it, and I thought that if I bought it-"

"You bought me a building?" she asked, shaking her head. "How do I go from thinking that you're sleeping with someone-"

"I thought you didn't think that," he chuckled nervously.

"And you bought me a building? Jason…" She took the papers back and started to flip through them, skimming hurriedly. She caught words like partners and percentages, and there were several flow charts showing what money would be contributed and what would be made. "You bought me a building?"

"I bought a building," he said uneasily, "but I'd like to lease it to you."

"What?" she asked, not following.

"You said you aren't in the position to lease the gallery, so I bought the building. It's all there," he said, pointing at the papers. "Everything was finalized tonight. In the beginning, I'lld have to give some funding, of course, but you'd pay back with interest over time because I know you wouldn't have it any other way. And the gallery is yours to do with as you please. My only stipulation is that you let Johnny and I open a café in part of the building and-"

"You want to be business partners?," she cut in, barely able to wrap her head around this. "You want me to open an art gallery? I just…"

"Look, I know you want to find a job, one that makes you happy, and that you wanted to do it on your own, but I thought – just read the proposal, Elizabeth. It's all there, and if you don't want-"

"Yeah, I'll read it," she sighed, grabbing her purse from the bar and stalking off, tears stinging her eyes. She couldn't decide why she was so angry and hurt. It wasn't something awful, and she didn't feel like she was losing her independence.

At least not yet anyway.

"Wait, Elizabeth," he called, following after her, both of them forgetting that they were supposed to be keeping Johnny company too. She shook her head as she pushed through the back door, rushing into the half empty parking lot, the cool night air forcing her to come to her senses. "I don't want you to leave here angry."

"I'm not," she said, digging through her purse for her keys. "I'm just – it's been a long week, and then this, and I…" She stretched to slide her arms around his neck, her uneasiness almost shaken by how safe it felt to be in his arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just trying to figure this out." She pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, and looking him in the eye. "No one's ever bought me a building before."

"Technically, it's _my_ building," he reminded her, and she knew he was just trying to keep her from freaking out. "But that means it's _yours_ too."

She grinned, her heart tightening in her chest, and she knew immediately what was wrong.

He wanted to be business partners, to tie himself to her in legally bound business ways that would require lawyers and court hearings to break. Yet he still didn't want to marry her, and for some reason, thatit was breaking her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"REO Speedwagon?" Jason griped, making a face as Johnny turned up the car stereo and sang under his breath.

"One of the top five best bands of all time, buddy," he replied seriously, and Jasonhe knew it was better not to fight O'Brien about his music choices. "Every girl I dated made _Take It On The Run_ my life.?"

"Uh, you made that song their life," Jason corrected, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window. "Do I even want to know who the other bands are?" Johnny started to answer, but he held up his hand and stopped him. "Rhetorical question."

"Asshole," he pouted, turning the stereo up even louder, obviously pleased to drive the rest of the way to Harbor View Towers in peace.

Jason fumbled with his seatbelt as Johnny pulled into the garage. "She's so pissed," he said quietly. "Just like you said she would be."

"I don't believe pissed was my exact word," he corrected, turning off the ignition and looking over at him. "Blind-sided, confused, teetering on the brink of being pissed off, but not quite that far."

"She hasn't painted in weeks," he sighed, closing his eyes when it felt like the car was spinning. His hand reached for the button on the side of the seat, and he let out a sigh of relief when his it seat started to lean back. "Weeks, Johnny, and that's when she's happiest. I thought – Fuck, she's really mad."

"You bought her a building, Jason," his friend reminded him, tapping his hands anxiously against the steering wheel. "That's bigger than dinner or a blouse. Hell, even a ring."

"You bought Lulu a house," he pointed out, cracking an eye open to look at him.

"Yeah, and a building is still bigger," Johnny shrugged, shaking his head hopelessly. "It's a big commitment."

"It's a building," he mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face. "A stupid building with high ceilings and bright lights."

"Being business partners," O'Brien said seriously, "is a big commitment. Essentially she's working for you, and not in the way that she works at the warehouse, Jason. If she fails at this, it's going to cost you a bundle, and she can't afford to make up the difference."

"I can," he groaned, getting tired of this independent woman tirade she was on.

"But that's you, not her," he said exhaustedly, and Jason could tell that his night of binge drinking and dwelling on issues with his girlfriend was wearing on his friend. Johnny didn't even complain about Lulu like this. They were always on the same page, so understanding and happy , and it was fucking sickening.

"I don't see what the big fucking deal is," Jason hissed, fumbling with his seatbelt buckle again. "So what if we're business partners? We're already…partners."

"You don't get it. You're not thinking about this from her perspective," he muttered hesitantly. "Believe me, I've had years of experience, and I told you she would react this way."

Rolling his eyes, he finally pulled his seatbelt free. "Fuck you." He continued to swear as he shoved the door open. "If you're so smart, Einstein, how the fuck do I fix this?"

"Now you're asking me for relationship advice?" Johnny laughed, smacking his hand against the steering wheel.

"I hate you," Jason growled, slamming the door closed. Seconds later, Johnny's opened and he appeared on other side of the car. "Go home."

"You asked for advice," he reminded him, flashing a toothy grin. "Go upstairs, tell your fiancé-"

"Don't start with that shit either," Jason interrupted, slowly stumbling towards the elevator. "This fucking F.E. is ruining everything. If Elizabeth hadn't started this shit-"

"Dude, you are so drunk," Johnny laughed, walking up beside him and clapping him on the back. "You're belligerent."

"You don't understand," he grimaced, "because you're already married."

"And you could be. I don't see what the big, damn deal is. You and Elizabeth are already living in sin, going into business, so why not-"

"Fucking F.E. – I swear, I told her this had to stop," he muttered, punching the elevator button. Hanging his head, he braced one hand against the wall to hold himself up.

"F.E.?" Johnny asked, holding a hand out to steady Jason should he decide to suddenly fall over. Thankfully the elevator doors swung open and he stumbled away, leaving O'Brien behind.

"Yeah, the fucking faux – fucking Elizabeth," he stammered, catching himself from almost ruining the whole debacle. This was the perfect opportunity to blow the whole secret. He could blame the shots and beers and do them both a favor, except that he couldn't. The words floated around the tip of his tongue, anxious to burst from his lips, but they didn't.

Son of a bitch.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"This wedding shit is getting to me," Jason shrugged, hitting the button for his floor. He leaned back against the wall and waved to Johnny as the doors started to close.

"There's always Vegas!" he laughed, before disappearing when the doors closed and the elevator lurched upward.

Shit.

He was going to throw up all over the fucking elevator.

That would _really_ piss Elizabeth off.

He groaned loudly as the elevator dinged and opened to his floor, sure that his stomach was going to completely cave in. Stumbling off the elevator, he dug through his suit jacket for his keys, finding only his money clip and wallet.

"Fuck," he groaned, pressing his forehead against the door to his penthouse. He swore loudly when he turned the knob and found out the door was locked, which meant Elizabeth was asleep, and that he'd have to wake her up.

He'd have to sleep on the couch.

Would Elizabeth make him sleep on the couch?

There was so much that didn't make sense to him.

"Jason?" He listened as her feet pattered across the hardwood floor, trying to decide whether or not she was angry. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, I think I lost – left my keys…somewhere," he replied, pawing at the door with his hand.

Yes, he was slinking home with his tail between his legs, and he wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong. That was the worst part.

Fuck.

What if she asked why he was sorry and he didn't have an answer?

The deadbolt turned and the door slowly opened, revealing Elizabeth in a pair of loose sweatpants and a tank top, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail.

He easily had the hottest girlfriend in all of New York.

Fuck that.

The whole entire world.

"You're drunk," she murmured, her lips turning into an amused grin.

"I had some drinks," he said, slinking inside. He immediately shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it down on his desk.

"You've got the glow," she teased, kicking the door closed with her foot. She crossed her arms over her chest and followed him towards the couch, where he collapsed, rolling onto his side and pressing his face into the cushions. "Or maybe not. Don't throw up on this couch."

"Hmph," he grunted, lifting his head and looking at her. He noticed the flecks of paint across the front of her shirt. "Were you painting?"

"Yeah," she answered, rolling her eyes. "I think I – I felt…inspired."

"Because I bought you a building," he grumbled, dropping his face back against the cushion. He felt the couch shift as she sat down beside him, and he didn't open his eyes until he felt heris hand on hiser face. "What?"

"Don't throw up on this couch," she repeated sternly, still smiling.

"You're not mad?" he asked, rolling onto his back. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, causing her to fall into his side.

"Why would I be mad?" she asked in a terribly mocking tone. The kind that meant she had many reasons to be mad and was still deciding if she should be.

"I bought you a building," he reminded her, like that was going to make some kind of difference.

"You bought a building for yourself," she corrected, shifting to drape her legs across his lap. "I am merely a partner, a receiver of forty percent, and liable to be sued if this fails."

He perked up at her words, sitting up slowly to look at her. "You read the proposal?"

"I have to say that I'm surprised about two things. One,, that you gave yourself sixty percent of profits, but your reasoning behind that was understandable. You make more money, so you don't have to feel guilty about charging me less, right?"

"Not exactly…" He squirmed beside her, struggling to get through the fog of his drunken haze to talk about this.

"And I'm also surprised that you want to go into business with me," she continued, her eyes darkening. "It's a _commitment_, a very big one at that."

Yeah, she'd just said that like she'd opened her favorite cheeseburger and found it topped with an inch of onions.

Like it was foul and disgusting.

And worst of all, she was acting as if he was the one that felt this way.

"I'm committed," he replied defensively, waving one of his hands at her. "Look around;, penthouse, you, me, us. We share things like…_people_ share things."

She stiffened, drawing her legs back and scooting away. "Exactly my point."

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. "This is about the fucking F.E., isn't it?"

"Do you have to say it like that?" she asked, getting up from the couch. She grabbed her robe that was draped over the back of the couch – because she left her shit lying everywhere – and pulled it on. "You act like it's the worst thing that's ever happened to you."

He just looked at her.

"I don't understand you one bit, Jason," she continued, throwing her hands up at him. "One second you're buying me a building so I have a place for art, so I have something that makes me happy, and the nextn you compare us to _people_ and you're-"

"Really, I shouldn't compare us to people because this-" He paused, motioning back and forth between them. "This is so unlike everyone else and it's-"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

God, she wanted to fight.

That was what this was about.

She was putting on that grim Elizabeth Webber fight face, and she'd be damned if he didn't do something stupid that pissed her off so she could yell.

This was not what was supposed to happen when you bought someone a building.

"I didn't mean it like that. You know that I love the fucking F.E. – that I love having these silly conversations about cupcakes and icing and first dances and-"

"You're so drunk," she interrupted, tossing her head back as she laughed. "You hate the F.E. and everything that it stands for."

"I do not," he replied, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from the couch.

She continued to laugh, which was a relief because that meant she was losing all her will to fight, except now she was laughing at him.

Because really, sometimes, when they started talking about this stupid shit – the doilies, the appeal of finger foods, and eating icing off one another's bodies – well, the F.E. had some kind of potential.

Even if it just made for good dinner conversation.

"Stop laughing at me," he slurred, starting towards her.

She held her hand out and motioned for him to sit on the couch arm when he stumbled. "I'm not laughing at you, but – God, how can I be mad at you when you say something like that?"

"That I like the F.E.?" he asked, arching his eyebrow.

Usually they spent so much time talking about how they hated the F.E., the two of them griping about their best friends always pressuring them to get married, and how they wouldn't have some fancy wedding that cost thousands and thousands of dollars, and basically how stupid they were for getting into this.

How the fuck could he like something when he hated it so much?

"You hate it," she laughed, stepping between his legs and sliding her arms around his neck. He shook his head in protest, and she instantly challenged him. "When was the last time that you actually thought positively about the F.E.?"

"Ride home," he answered instantly, slipping his hands beneath her robe. The material of her tank top was so thin that, and he could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

Seriously, they hadn't had sex in like…a _really_ long time.

"Jason?" she asked, tipping her head to the side and looking at him. "You're not even thinking about the F.E. – you just want-"

"Songs," he interrupted, sliding from off the couch arm onto the cushions and pulling her into his lap. He nuzzled the side of her face, brushing his lips over her cheek. "I was telling Johnny about how this wedding shit drives me crazy."

"That's nice to hear," she murmured, shivering when he nipped at her earlobe.

Ha.

She was already giving in.

She couldn't stop him if she wanted to.

The F.E. was the like the Golden Ticket to sex.

Well, liking it was, at least.

"And then we were talking about…wedding songs," he continued, easing her robe off her shoulders.

Okay, technically it hadn't gone down like that, but it was close.

Top five bands of all time.

And songs that defined relationships.

"We don't have a song," she pointed out, her fingers lazily unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Yeah, top five bands of all time have our song," he slurred, gently lifting her curls away from her neck.

"You don't have a top five band list," she murmured, hissing softly when his teeth raked over her neck. "You don't even…like music."

"Sure, I like…" He was torn between taking her clothes off and figuring out what band Johnny had been playing, but Elizabeth seemed to get the hint and moved to straddled him, easing her robe the rest of the way off and slipping her tank top over her head.

Seriously.

Best fucking girlfriend ever.

"_Take It On The Run_," he muttered, groaning his approval as his eyes raked over her. His hands skimmed up her sides to touch her breasts, and it was only when he pulled her hands away that he realized she was no longer interested.

Fuck.

What did he do now?

"_Take It On The Run_?" she asked, falling forward as she laughed. "Jason, are you serious? You want that to be our song?"

"We have to have one," he sighed as if there was no other choice.

"Sure," she continued to laugh, not even stopping when he flipped her onto heris back and braced himself over her. "If that's what you want it to be."

"Fine," he gave in, pushing her pants down her legs as she fumbled with his belt buckle. "I guess you can pick the song."

"Oh, I can assure you of that," she agreed, still laughing hysterically as she undid the snap of his pants and slipped her hands inside. He groaned and thrust against her. "Because we aren't dancing to an REO Speedwagon song at our wedding, especially one about cheating."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"You're going to be late," Elizabeth murmured, sitting down beside Jason on the bed. She smoothed her hand over his forehead, grinning as his eyes cracked open, and he let out a tired yawn.

"Late?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"Our business meeting," she reminded him cheerily, thrusting a warm cup of coffee into his hands.

She'd already been up for hours, pouring over the proposal at the crack of dawn, desperately searching for some reason why she couldn't do this. Something about it was terrifying, like taking a leap with nothing to catch you because Jason clearly stated if this business failed, she would owe him for the money he lost.

Of course, he wouldn't take her to court or probably even take the money, but it was the principle. Elizabeth wanted to be taken seriously, and Jason knew that.

It was evident in how he wanted to split profits made from the gallery, how he wanted the coffee shop to expand his and Johnny's business, and how he wanted a meeting every two weeks to discuss the financial growth (or lack thereof) of her business. He had the ability to step in at any time if things weren't running well, and do what he saw fit to save the business, and he could overtrump her decisions if he wanted to.

She knew all of this was mostly for show; that Jason knew nothing about art and would depend on Elizabeth to make the decisions that mattered. This would be hers, but he just wanted to ensure her that he was taking it seriously too.

Yeah, her boyfriend was pretty damn amazing.

"You went on and on last night." She paused, grinning sneakily, but he didn't notice. "Mostly about how if I gowent into business with you, it would be taken seriously, which meansmeant meetings and agreements that I would gladly go along with. All starting today with our lunch meeting, that you have about twenty minutes to get ready for."

"I remember going on about other things," he sighed, lifting his head and smiling lazily. She couldn't help but laugh, remembering the time spent on the couch, the stairs, and finally the bed. For someone who drank a lot, Jason clearly had intentions of passing out, but that was probably her fault because she kept teasing him about passing out on her. "Why can't we just have the meeting here?"

Rubbing his face, he sat up, the thin sheet falling to his waist, and Elizabeth couldn't help but take in the sight of her absolutely gorgeous and hung over boyfriend.

Ha.

He was trying to seduce her.

Stupid man.

"No," she said firmly, lifting her eyes to his face. "You said a meeting in your office. A scheduled meeting for for noon today. If we're going to do this, I want to be taken seriously."

"I can take you seriously in my bedroom," he argued, smirking as he took a sip from the steaming mug. Frowning, he swallowed hard and set the mug down on his nightstand. "Did you make that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, of coursee, I did because I'm not running out to Kelly's to get your ass a cup of freshly brewed coffee because you have a hangover."

"It's thicker than motor oil," he scowled, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Did they really have to have this conversation every time she made him a damn cup of coffee?

"Then you should have gotten up out of bed and made the coffee yourself, Morgan," she hissed, getting up from the bed. She crossed the room to grab her suit jacket from the dresser. Shrugging it on, she fluffed her hair out in the mirror and hurried to do the buttons, catching Jason's wandering eye in the mirror. His eyes were dark dark, seductive even, and he grinned in a way that usually made her drop her panties…or shove them to the side, depending on his preference in the moment. "Stop looking at me like that."

"You're still here," he said, shoving the sheet away and tossing his legs over the side of the bed. He groaned as his feetthey touched the floor and held his face in his hands.

"Meaning what?" she asked, bracing a hand against the dresser as she leaned over to slip on a pair of pumps.

It wasn't until this morning that she'd been thankful she had went through this cute business suit phase. Now all those skirts and jackets hanging in her closet with tags had a reason to be used, and she wouldn't have to find an excuse for _not_ returning them.

He pulledshrugged on a pair of sweatpants that were lying beside the bed on the floor, pushed himself to his feet, and let out another groan as he walked over to her. She shivered as he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her upright, his hands finding their way beneath her jacket and camisole.

God, he was good.

"Meaning, when you're here, you're my girlfriend, Webber," he reminded her, nuzzling her hair away from her neck. She hissed softly when his lips brushed over her skin. "But feel free to wear these suits anytime."

"Jason," she groaned, pulling his hands from beneath her shirt, and swatting them when they started right back. She turned around in his arms, plantednting her hands on his chest, and gave him a stern look. "We have a business meeting in twenty – no, about seventeen minutes – and-"

"I'll be quick," he muttered, slipping his hands under her bottom and lifting her onto the dresser.

"Quick, huh?" she asked, her voice hitching as he hurried to undo the buttons on her blazer. She started to fight him, but he was too quick, and his teeth were pulling her camisole down before she could stop him.

Apparently, he'd found a new hangover cure.

"Damn, Elizabeth," he groaned, his hands slipping beneath her skirt and finding nothing but skin.

"Damn is right," she panted, managing to come to her senses. Somehow, by the will of God or some higher power, she pulled his hands from beneath her skirt, and slid off the desk. Despite his obvious arousal and hers, she remained firm on what would happen first. "That's for _after_ the meeting."

**********

Jason had put on a fucking tie.

The only time he did that was for business meetings that required dinner at an upscale restaurant or going to Manhattan. Otherwise, when someone came into his office, they were on his grounds, and he wore his jeans and t-shirt without giving a damn.

Elizabeth was not like every other client.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous about getting a proposal turned down. It had him so on edge that he'd gone out and gotten incredibly drunk because he was too afraid to come home in any other state.

She was a difficult woman to read. Her face, her attitude, her mannerisms rarely reflected what she was really feeling, and he knew that if she was upset, she wouldn't admit it because she didn't want to hurt him. And when she'd left Jake's last night, nonchalant attitude and shrugging shoulders, he knew she was upset.

Johnny warned him about blindsiding her with this entire deal, but his friend didn't understand that Elizabeth was miserable with the art gallery, and Jason just _had_ to do something. He kept imagining that she'd run off to Manhattan, find a job with her old boss, and be happy without him and Port Charles.

Sure, his intentions were selfish, but he was pretty sure she already knew that.

This deal was a firm tie to him, and he wondered if that was what really had her so upset. They hadn't been too seriously about their commitment to their relationship. It was something that just happened, and then they moved in with one another, and every aspect of their life togetherfe just seemed to work itself out.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning over his desk as she frowned and tapped her finger against the paper. She chewed her lip, uncrossing and crossing her legs in a way that made him feel weak all over. "If there's something you don't like…"

He really wished she had put on underwear before leaving the penthouse. If she wanted a proper business meeting, she'd have to help out on her end too.

"The lease," she sighed, sliding the paper onto the edge of the desk and lifting her eyes to his. She looked worried, scared even, and had she not continued to fidget by crossing and uncrossing her legs, he may have been able to focus on that. "It's perfect, Jason. It really is." Leaning back in her chair, she shrugged and gave him a timid smile. "You pulled out all the stops on this."

"But?" he asked, glancing down at his copy of the lease.

"I – I – Gosh, this is really weird for me," she admitted, raking a nervous hand through her hair.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure we can reach some kind of agreement," he replied carefully, willing to do whatever it took to make this what she wanted. He'd just give her the damn money if she wasn't so hell bent on doing this on her own.

"Well, you have the first month's payment due thirty days after I sign the lease," she said, dropping her gaze to her lap. "And I know that's generous considering you didn't ask for a deposit or anything like that, but it's _a lot_ of money, Jason." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I – I don't know if I can come up with that much in a month's time."

She sat up on the edge of her chair, shaking her head. "But I don't want special treatment in any way. We agreed this would be taken seriously, and seeing as you didn't ask for a deposit, this is how you'd treat another client, so…"

"Honestly, I didn't think about it," he apologized, skimming over the section of the lease that discussed her monthly payments. "I can give you an extension."

"No, Jason, I-"

"Well, you're going to want to do renovations," he interrupted gently, thankful when she didn't object. She must have read all the way to the end of the proposal, even the part saying that he would give her money to start out as long as she paid it back. "And I'll be doing my own in order to have the café added on, so you won't be able to open for at least a month – maybe two."

"Which puts me two months behind," she murmured, smoothing her hands nervously over her skirt.

Did she have to keep bringing attention to her lap?

"We can make adjustments. You'll have a month to paint, decorate, hire a staff – all of which has been outlined in the proposal -, and in that time, you can work on finding artistt's to feature in the gallery."

"You make it sound so easy," she sighed, smiling softly at him.

"Well, I wasn't always that way," he confessed, getting up from his chair and walking around to the other side of the desk. "I was hesitant about everything when Johnny's father offered me a job. He always said I was so observant and good at reading people. Their attitudes, their motives, and their abilities – and he always said that you have to approach everything as a possibility. If you don't think you can do it-"

"You won't," she chimed in, grimacing. "My father always said that too."

He chuckled, reaching out to cup her cheek, not caring if it was against their unspoken rules as business partners. "Sorry to bring him up." She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I just – I want you to have this, so I'll do whatever it takes and, honestly, the longer that you take to get started, the longer we'llwill be in business."

"Well at this rate, we'll always be in business," she replied, sighing as he dropped his hand from her face and slid it down her arm, and gently pullinged her to her feet. "Unfortunately, I'll probably always need you to back me."

"I don't think so," he said, slipping his arms around her waist. "You'll sell a few paintings, get people interested, and then you'll have the most popular gallery in upstate New York."

"You've got big dreams for me, Morgan," she laughed, rolling her eyes as she leaned in to kiss him chastely. "This means more to me than you know."

"I just want you to be happy," he murmured, kissing her again and resting his forehead against hers. "Art makes you happy, so…"

"I hope you're this happy when I've cost you tens of thousands of dollars," she grimaced, obviously nervous about the entire endeavor., bJason understood her he understood. It would take some time for her to get used to this, and it was a big leap for someone unemployed, flat broke, and living free.

Not that he minded any of it in the slightest.

"You'll just have to find a way to make it up to me," he whispered, brushing his lips over her cheek bone.

She shivered, wiggling in his arms as she tried to pull away. "Meeting isn't over yet, boss." He held his hands up as she leaned around him and grabbed a pen from the desk. Taking a deep breath, she started at the front of the packet and signed every tabbed line, her hand shaking fiercely by the end. "Okay. I think that's it." She stuck out her hand, grinning when he took it. "Nice doing business with you, Morgan."

"You too, Webber," he replied, pulling her back into his arms, and placing his lips against hersis.

She warmed to his touch immediately, leaving no doubts as to whether she'd been as hot for him during the meeting as he was for her. Groaning when she nibbled his lip, he lifted her up and spun her around to lay her down on the desk, his hands hurrying to shove up her skirt.

God, it had been so long since they'd done this.

"You know," he said, bracing himself over her as she pulled his belt free and undid the snap of his dress pants.

"What?" she asked, reaching up to pull him against her, hissing when he jerked her jacket open, and practically tore the camisole off her shoulders.

"I think I like it," he replied, nuzzling her breast before snaking his tongue across it.

"What's that?" she asked, arching her hips against him, silently begging him to just give it to her. Finally, he gave in, and she let out a low moan, one that could surely be heard in the hallways.

He loved when she was loud.

Grinning, he kissed her hard and deep, pulling away to catch his breath as he started to slowly move inside her. "When you call me boss."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Wait, wait, wait," Elizabeth laughed, grabbing Jason by the his wrist and pulling him away from the front of the gallery. "You have to cover your eyes first."

"Uh, uh," he groaned, tipping his head towards her as he pointedpointing at the glass lining windows that lined the front of the gallery. "I can already see inside."

"Jason," she pouted, stomping her foot as she pulled him towards her. "You weren't supposed to look, and besides, you haven't seen anything yet."

"White walls, bright lights, and a desk by the door," he murmured, slipping his arms around her waist.

"You peeked," she scolded, swatting him on the arm. "And your description is very inaccurate. The lights aren't _that_ bright, and the walls have to be white, and the desk – well, seriously, did you have to ruin this?"

"Oh, come on," he muttered, tightening his arms around her when she tried to pull away. "I was just guessing."

The corner of her mouth hitched in a smile. "Liar."

"I'll cover my eyes," he bargained, arching his eyebrows as she contemplated his offer. "Your chance is fleeting."

"Fine," she huffed, motioning for him to hold his hands over his face.

Reluctantly, he dropped his hands from around her waist and held them over his eyes, feeling completely ridiculous as cars passed them. Of course, the gallery just had to be was on one of the busiest streets in town.

"Forget it," she said, pulling his hands away and turning him around. "I don't trust you. I just know you're a peeker."

"A peeker?" he laughed, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Yes," she answered, stretching on her tiptoes behind him to slide her arms around his neck. She nuzzled the side of his face, pressing a kiss against the rough stubble on his jaw. "You're too tall."

"A peeker?" he repeated, slowly stepping forward when she nudged him with her foot.

"Yeah, one of those annoying kids at Christmas who has to shake things and can't stand surprises – open the door, Morgan – like if I gave you a big box and told you not to open it, you so would behind my back," she said, pressing herself against his back. "I said, open the door."

"I can't see," he teased, shivering when she pressed herself against him again. He was practically blindfolded and his girlfriend was rubbing against him from behind on a busy street, her breath hot on his ear.

How the fuck was he supposed to focus?

"Lift your hand," she said slowly, "and I promise you'll find the door handle." Grinning, he purposely fumbled causing her to scowl. "If you stopped thinking like a man for all of five seconds-"

"Got it," he interrupted, pulling the door open, and strongly disliking how she knew every single thought he was having. Technically, it was only because she was having the same ones herself. That much he knew for sure. "Can I look now?"

"No," she huffed, steering him to the right. "You already pegged the gallery. Bright lights, white walls, and a desk because you're a peeker, peeker, but there is something you haven't seen."

"Your office?" he asked, grinning at the thought of the last time they'd been in her office.

Elizabeth had liked taking Jason on her desk as much as he liked taking her on his.

"No, perv," she muttered, suddenly dropping her hands and hurrying to step in front of him. "The café as per your request."

"Wow," he said, looking around at the dimly lit café, the only light coming from the chandeliers over the tables and counter.

It was bigger than he imagined it being, but he wasn't surprised that Elizabeth took his idea and ran with it. There were large sofas and oversized chairs in the corners and booths lining the walls that. The walls had been painted aa deep orange that was almost redn orange so deep it was almost red, but it was the painting wall behind the counter that really caught his eye.

"You painted that?" he asked, walking over to the counter and looking up at the sprawling mural of Rome; the buildings, the bridges, the boats. It was like she'd brought an actual picture to life.

"Yeah, it's why I've been working so late the past few weeks, and why you haven't been allowed in here," she replied, biting her lip.

He almost laughed because she'd been so firm about him staying away from the gallery while it was under construction, but of course, she caved and let him into the gallery, and kept the café off limits.

Otherwise, he'd never see her these days. She was living, breathing, and sometimes sleeping at the gallery, determined to make it the best it could be. She'd renovated the building, including the second floor that was used for storage space by the last owner. The café had become two thirds of the bottom floor while the rest of the main floor and upstairs would act as the gallery, and she'd done every bit of it on her own.

She and Jason met once a week to go over finances and discuss progress, and surprisingly enough they worked well together. They never fought, even when he thought she was stressing too much over the paint job and furniture.

She'd had the entire gallery painted three times before giving in and doing it herself because the people she hired never used the right shade of white. Stupidly, he'd pointed out that white was white, and that had been the only argument they had – if you could call it that. Elizabeth deemed it a lesson in colors, and he privately called it boring, but he could _watch_ her talk about anything as long as he stared at her mouth.

Maybe he was as big a pervert as she accused him of being.

Like she'd have it any other way.

"So...?" she asked, slipping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I think you should be showing off your own work and not other peoples," he replied, brushing his lips over her forehead.

"You're biased," she laughed, pulling him behind the counter and rambling on about espresso machines and cappuccino makers, and how she'd stolen the best barista in town from the Grille. "Hopefully Edward doesn't find out it was me." She leaned against the counter. "Stop looking at me like that, Morgan."

"Like what?" he laughed, rolling his eyes.

"That," she replied, her cheeks flushing.

Reaching over, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. "You've done an amazing job with this, Elizabeth."

"It helps to have a rich boyfriend backing you," she teased, giggling as he slid his arms down her back to cup her bottom and lifted her onto the counter.

"Money doesn't make something good," he shrugged, smoothing his hands up and down her the thighs of her jeans. "You should be proud of yourself."

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her lap as she smiled. "I am, and it's really because of you," she murmured, slipping her hands in his. "You believed that I could do this, even when I didn't, and you always believe in me." She lifted her eyes to his. "I think I take that for granted sometimes. You know, how good you are to me."

"Well," he shrugged, "you've always believed in me. I'm just trying to return the favor." He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers, and slowly parted her lips, drawing her tongue into his mouth.

"Jason," she panted, pulling away and looking at him with dark eyes. "Windows. Lots of windows…and this, hardly counts as an art exhibit."

Laughing, he pulled away despite how badly he wanted to take her there on the counter, and probably would have had she not stopped him.

"Besides, I have things to do," she sighed, scooting off the counter.

"Things?" he grunted sadly, hoping she'd finally pull herself away from here.

"I found two artists," she grinned, taking his hand and starting back towards the gallery. "They're both sort of smug and annoying because they know how good they are, but the point is that they a're good, and-" She paused and looked at him. "This is really boring for you, isn't it?"

"No," he replied seriously, squeezing her hand. "It's really not. I like seeing you so excited, so go ahead. Tell me about them."

"Okay," she smiled, leaning against his arm as they moseyed about the empty gallery. "Patrick Drake is the first one, and he's kind of a jerk – well, he is a jerk. He's a professor at PCU and really good with his hands." She cringed and looked up at Jason. "That didn't sound right."

"Not exactly," he agreed, nodding for her to continue.

"He sculpts. He paints too, but the things that he can carve out of clay are exquisite," she rambled, her eyes lighting up. "He saw my ad in the paper about a new gallery opening, so thank you for giving me that idea. Otherwise, I'd still be scrambling. And he came in here a few days, so full of himself and how great he was, which was kind of fun because I acted totally disinterested like my old boss did with clients. And bBy the end of our conversation, he was begging me to show his work at the opening."

"Opening?" Jason asked, remembering they had talked about it, but it seemed further off.

"Yeah, I know we were thinking after New Year's, but with as well as everything has come together, I was hoping the week before Christmas," she said nervously, biting her lip. "If your schedule is clear because I couldn't do it without you."

"I'm clear," he replied, even though he was pretty sure he was supposed to be in Manhattan for part of that week, but he'd just have to put it off.

This was far more important.

"Excellent," she exclaimed, squeezing his hand as they stopped in the middle of the room. "Oh, so the other artist is also really annoying, but what artsy people aren't? Except me, of course."

"Of course," he agreed with a grin.

"She's loud and boisterous, which her artwork reflects, and there's this part of me that can't wait to introduce her to Lulu. She is going to freak because she's so bold when it comes to sex and drinking, and she's – well, not the kind of woman I'd hang out with either, but she's talented." She paused, checking her watch. "Actually, she's supposed to be here soon to bring me some slides, so you might get to meet her. She sort of has this Jackson Pollock vibe about her, which is kind of a rip off, I guess, but she does it differently. He used these – Gosh, I'm really boring you now."

"You're not," he murmured, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard. "I like seeing you this happy, and I'm used to your rants by now."

"I do not rant," she corrected, brushing her lips against his. "I ramble, which is very different – oh, here she is!" She pulled out of Jason's arms and hurried across the room as a tall, slim blonde came into the gallery, a portfolio tucked under her arm.

"I know, I'm late," she griped, dropping her canvas bag by the door and frowning at Elizabeth. "I had a late night, and I had to go all the way across town to get my stuff, and – well, at least I know how to make an entrance."

"It's fine. I was just showing Jason around and, letting him know how his investment is going to pay off," she laughed, motioning her over towards him.

Jason watched as the women continued to talk and banter back and forth, and he couldn't help but stare at the blonde, fairly sure he knew her from somewhere.

"Are you listening?" Elizabeth asked, poking him in the side.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, looking over at her, and then back at the blonde.

Oh, he definitely knew her, and she clearly knew him.

That much was obvious from the surprise that filled her eyes, the smirk that spread across her lips, and the very come hither look she was now giving him.

Son of a bitch.

"Jason, this is the woman I was telling you about," Elizabeth said professionally, pointing at her newfound artist. "Carly Benson meet Jason Morgan."

He was a dead man.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Okay, just take a deep breath," Johnny said quietly, pouring Jason a short glass of whiskey as they stood in the kitchen. Handing him the glass, he leaned towards the hallway to make sure Lulu wasn't coming. "Now tell me everything."

Jason swirled the amber liquid around in his glass, his head still spinning. "Fucking Carly Benson, Johnny," he hissed, taking a long sip. "Do I need to say anything else?"

"Nope," he sighed, holding his glass out to Jason. They tapped their glasses together, downed the whiskey, and set their empty glasses on the counter them back on the counter. "So, uh, what did you do? I mean, did you two laugh a little and fill Elizabeth in on the history?"

"Didn't you hear what I said?" he barked, refilling their glasses. "Elizabeth likes her, thinks she's a great artist. She's featuring her in the gallery open."

"Yeah, until she finds out that her new favorite artist fucked her boyfriend," he murmured, taking his glass from the counter.

"Johnny," he warned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, it's true," he defended, holding up his hand. "Man, Elizabeth is going to flip the fuck out. You have to tell her."

"I know," he muttered, snatching his glass and walking over to the table. He leaned against the edge, keeping an eye out for Lulu, partly because he was sitting on her precious Shabby Chic table and partly because he didn't want her to know any of this. "I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't – I had to get the fuck out of there."

"This is precisely why I don't like taking Lulu to Jake's," O'Brien said, understanding Jason in the only way he knew how.

Except Jason wasn't a complete fucking man whore.

Yeah, there had been a time in his life, right after his accident, whenre he hadn'tdidn't give a shit about who he took to bed or spent his time with. He'd beene was too angry and out of control, and he seizedembraced it by doing whatever the hell he wanted, and when someone told him something was wrong, it only baited him into continuing.

And that was how he'd met Carly.

One terriblye bad night at Jake's after a fight with the Quartermaines, Elizabeth, and Johnny, and Jasonhe found solace in the first warm body that came along. Like him, Carly was reckless and didn't give a damn what anyone thought, and he'd enjoyed it for a while, but eventually she became like everyone else. She wanted Jason to be the man she saw, and not who he really was, and it ended before it really went anywhere.

Only, she didn't exactly go away afterwards like most.

Usually, he got involved with a woman, rode it out for a while, and moved onto someone else, but Carly was…_crazy._ Controlling. An emotional basket case. Eventually Jason found out she was sleeping with someone else too, which gave him a really good reason to dump her ass. And Johnny joked for months after that Jason had really dodged a bullet with her.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Johnny asked, shaking his head in disgust as he grinned.

"Stop," Jason growled, taking another drink. At this rate, he'd be sloshed before Elizabeth even arrivedgot here for dinner, and things would get _really_ complicated. "I just – Elizabeth doesn't know about her, Johnny."

"Do you know about everyone she's ever slept with?" he asked seriously, though he already knew the answer to the question.

"This is different," he muttered, slinking off the edge of the table and into a chair as he heard Lulu humming to herself in the dining room. "She doesn't know about Carly because I refused – I refused to have anything to do with Elizabeth then."

"Oh, _that_," he grimaced, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the counter and holding it out to him. "Well, you two have dealt with the past-"

"It still hurts her though," Jason interrupted, filling his glass for the third time. "And she's on such a high with the gallery and the artists she found. She's already planning the opening, and if I tell her I slept with Carly, she'll freak out and panic about how everything's falling apart."

"True," he agreed, sitting down across from him and looking him in the eye. "But are you more afraid of reminding her what an asshole you used to be? What a slut? What a-"

"Johnny," he snapped, slamming his glass against the table.

"What? Does slut offend you?" he laughed, smiling a hesitant apology. "Look, I don't know a lot about relationships, and I'm not trying to give you any advice. I was afraid of showing Lulu who I used to be, and, yeah, Elizabeth knew things, but she wasn't always around to see it firsthand like II was. And maybe you don't want her to see you, but just remember that you've seen her at her worst and accepted it."

He nodded, not having the chance to reply because Lulu came into the kitchen to tell them Elizabeth had just gotten there. She breezed in behind his friend's wife a few seconds later, stopping to kiss Jason quickly on the cheek as she eyed his glass of whiskey.

"You okay?" she asked seriously, raking a hand through his hair. "You left the gallery in a hurry earlier, and I didn't know-"

"I'm fine," he interrupted, ignoring Johnny's scolding glare. "Just hungry."

She didn't look convinced, but turned to Lulu and started talking about the batch of brownies she'd brought for dessert, and soon the two women were too busy talking to one another to notice the looks going back and forth between theirre men.

"Wuss," Johnny snickered, starting out of the kitchen.

Jason got up and followed after him. "Fuck off."

**********

"So, I have to tell you something," Elizabeth said, smoothing her hands over the floral print apron Lulu had insisted she put on while she helped her finish up dinner.

She warned the poor woman that she might burn something or catch her stove on fire, and Lulu just giggled, but Elizabeth knew that the second she burnt the sauce for the pork loin, Lulu hadshe'd regretted letting Elizabeth into her kitchen.

"Tell me what?" she asked, a slow grin spreading across her face.

Thank God, she'd clearly forgotten about the sauce.

"I did something," Elizabeth confessed, wiping at one of the many smudges on the front of her apron. How in the hell, Lulu managed to cook without getting a damn thing on her, she'd never know.

"Okay," Lulu murmured, arching her eyebrows as she pulled a bottle of wine from the rack that was placed neatly on the counter.

"White," Elizabeth said, frowning at the bottle.

"Red goes better with the meal," she replied in a tone that she couldn't argue with.

"Fine, just open the damn bottle," she muttered, opening cabinets and poking around for wine glasses. She finally found them, lined neatly on the shelf, and she grabbed the largest ones Lulu owned.

"So?" Lulu asked, twisting the corkscrew into the bottle.

"I did something really bad," she whispered, her hands tightening around the base of the wine glass.

"What qualifies as bad?" she asked, popping the corkscrew from the bottle and tossing it onto the counter.

Without sloshing it onto her blouse, her pants, the floor, or the counter.

God, she made it so hard for women like Elizabeth.

"Well, to you – I – oh, more," she paused, waiting until Lulu filled her glass more than three fourths of the way. "You can't tell _anyone_."

"This sounds serious," the blonde murmured worriedly. "It's nothing illegal, right?"

"Not exactly," she frowned, taking a sip and swirling the warm liquid around in her mouth.

"Are you pregnant?"

She nearly choked as she swallowed. "No, no, _NO_!" she stressed, stepping towards the doorway to make sure the men weren't near. They'd been surprisingly quiet while they women finished up dinner, not even poking their heads in to complain about how long they were taking.

"Elizabeth, you're going to make me drink heavily if you don't start talking," Lulu cried, taking a tiny sip frromof her wine glass that wasn't nearly as full as Elizabeth'shers. "Please."

"Fine," she huffed, taking several large gulps as she walked back to Lulu. She slowly set her glass on the counter, took a deep breath, and looked at Lulu. "I – I bought _the_ dress."

Her eyes lit up and she sat her wine glass down before throwing her arms around Elizabeth and pulling her into a hug. "Elizabeth, that's so exciting!" she squealed, rocking her back and forth. It was oddly nice to have someone on her side, even though every bone in Elizabeth's body knew it was wrong.

Why in the hell she went back to the bridal shop, she had no fucking idea. One second she was locking up the gallery, and the next she was standing next to her car, which just happened to be parked in front of the damn bridal shop.

With _the_ dress in the fucking display window.

Either it was fate or God was playing a sick, sick joke on her.

Despite what her head had told her, she followed her heart and went inside to , and tryied the fucking dress on again, telling herself she _had_ to find something she hated about it. Instead, she'd coame out of the damn dressing room, everyone's heads had turned, and they all started murmuring about how she looked absolutely gorgeous.

So much for being thrifty with her money this time around.

"Um, I can't breathe," she whispered, relieved when Lulu finally let go of her and stepped away.

"So does this mean you and Jason finally set a date?" she cried, causing Elizabeth to cringe.

"No, we haven't set anything, which is exactly why I shouldn't have bought the dress," she groaned, holding her face in her hands. "If Jason finds out, he's going to-"

"Think that you're going to be the most beautiful bride of all time," she chimed in gleefully, grabbing a potholder and walking over to the oven. She bent over and pulled Elizabeth's brownies out, and she was thankful Lulu was paying attention or else they'd have burnt to a crisp.

"Yeah," she murmured, grabbing her glass and gulping the rest down. "If only." Frowning, she refilled the glass, chewing her lip nervously. "You can't tell, Lulu. Not even Johnny."

"I won't ruin your and Jason's secret fun," she shrugged, kicking the oven closed with her foot. "You know, with the way you two are acting, I wouldn't be surprised if you were going to sneak off and elope!"

"No Vegas," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Or Atlantic city."

"Right," she agreed, "because those are trashy, and you deserve something better."

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded, sipping her wine. "Maybe, I do."

**********

"You know, for a recovering alcoholic, Johnny sure has a lot of liquor at his house," Elizabeth giggled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and kicking off her shoes. She fell back against the mattress and closed her eyes, the bed dipping when Jason landed beside her.

Oh man, was she drunk.

"You're not supposed to say that," he muttered, rolling onto his side.

And was he loaded right along with her.

"It's true," she replied, peeking at him from the corner of her eye. "I think I drank too much wine."

"And I had too much whiskey," he agreed, scooting over beside her.

"Yeah, we had to take a cab home from dinner on a Wednesday night," she grimaced, rolling towards him as he slipped his arm around her waist. "Not good, Morgan. Not good."

"Lulu makes me drink," he reminded her, causing her to laugh.

"Dinner wasn't that bad," Elizabeth slurred, tipping her head back to look at him.

"I know," he agreed, propping his head up on his hand as he smoothed his other up and down her side. "She didn't even mention the F.E. a single time."

Elizabeth swallowed hard and looked away as if he'd be able to could see the reasons why in her eyes. "Well, she – she thinks we're getting – I mean, we're eloping."

"What?" he asked, his hand tensing against her hip. "Why would she-"

"No reason really," she interrupted hurriedly, rolling her eyes. "She doesn't know about the F.E. so she thinks we're engaged, but not making plans…"

"Ah," he replied, his hand not relaxing.

"Yeah," she sighed, working her lip back and forth between her teeth.

She couldn't stop thinking about the dress that was nestled so beautifully in the trunk of her car and how the existence of that very dress would send her boyfriend over the edge.

"Vegas?" he asked quietly.

"Too trashy," she replied, unable to fight a grin. "And no to Atlantic City too."

"We can't get married _and_ gamble?" he asked in disgust. "What kind of wedding is this?"

"The kind that means something, I guess," she shrugged, not sure what else to say.

"Does this mean we don't have to dance?" he slurred, pulling her in close.

"I would never make you dance, Jason," she laughed, relieved that he wasn't acting as strange as he'd been earlier.

Or maybe it was the wine that made him seem even more awkward.

"Yeah, you don't make me do things I don't want to," he murmured, rolling onto his back again and pulling her on top of him.

"Oh, I'm too drunk to move that fast," she moaned, pressing her face against his chest.

He chuckled softly and ran his hands up and down her back until the spinning subsided. "They make it look easy."

"Huh?" she asked, resting her chin on his chest.

"Johnny and Lulu," he sighed, clumsily tucking her curls behind her ears.

He was all hands when he was drunk.

It was so damn adorable.

"I'm drunk, Morgan. You're going to have to put it together," she mumbled, shivering as he slipped a hand beneath her shirt, resting it against the small of her back.

"Being together," he replied, sucking in a breath when he realized what he said. "Not just that – you know, being married. They're so-"

"Perfect," she muttered spitefully, curling her lips in disgust. "She's like Mary Freaking Poppins mixed with June Cleaver, and it makes me want to throw up."

"I would have eaten your burnt sauce," he chuckled, winking at her.

"Liar. You won't even drink my coffee," she glared playfully.

Jason sighed heavily. "But it's not just that stuff. I don't know – they get along so well, and she doesn't hate Johnny for things and-"

"Is there a problem here I'm not aware of?" she asked, the topic of conversation nearly enough to start sobering her upoff.

Last time she checked, she and Jason were an easy couple. Sure, they started out as a lie, but it became something wonderful. They got along, mostly fighting (very cutely) over the little things about one another that they pretended to hate, but secretly loved.

And they definitely didn't hate one another.

Unless in mocking.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized, his slender fingers stroking the small of her back. "You've always understood me, and I think I take that for granted."

Oh, God, he was going to become serious, drunk Jason Morgan.

"Did you do something dumb?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Because if you did, I'd rather not talk about it till morning."

"Not exactly," he admitted, looking confused, "But you won't like it."

"Oh hell," she groaned, hanging her head. "Is it gonna make me cry? Or just piss me off?"

"Maybe both," he replied hesitantly.

"Ugh," she frowned, holding up a finger. "Look, if you promise to fix it and forget about it, we can even get married _and_ gamble."

"By Elvis?" he asked, grinning crookedly.

"If we must," she replied, "but I'm not wearing some short, skimpy ass dress." Groaning, he smirked and looked at her. "Not happening."

"I'll let you have your chocolate fountain," he murmured sneakily.

"You cannot use that," she argued, her eyes lighting up.

The chocolate fountain just did all kinds of things to her.

"Chocolate fountain," he repeated seriously.

"Damn you, Morgan," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. "I refuse to look like a sleazy whore."

"You couldn't if you tried," he laughed, lifting his head to kiss her gently. He nuzzled her face and grinned. "You and me…we're good. Really good."

"Yeah," she agreed, easing off of him and settling into the crook of his arm. He tightened his hold on her as she their legs hung off the bed, tangled together. "We are."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Elizabeth isn't here."

"Oh," Jason said surprised, coming to a stop in the doorway of her office, his hands instantly clenching into tight fists. It happened without him noticing – his body's simple reaction to being in close quarters with Carly Benson. "Uh, do you know when she'll…be back? We were supposed to, uh…" He swallowed hard, the neck of his t-shirt suddenly feeling too tight.

"Go shopping?" Carly snickered, leaning back in her chair and very slowly crossing her legs. "It's kind of cute."

He didn't reply, knowing she'd go ahead and tell him what was _kind of cute_ whether he wanted her to or not.

"You being all domesticated," she laughed, arching her eyebrows at him. "You have lLittle Susie Homemaker to cook your dinners and buy clothes and do your laundry. Who would have thought the Jason Morgan _I_ knew was capable of all this?"

This was precisely why when someone said to meet them at their office, they should always be there.

Elizabeth may have told him that Carly was going to be at the gallery today, but they'd been busy doing _other_ things that morning. It was her fault for always reminding him of the worst possible things during sex. He almost hadn't come back from hearing his ex's name in bed, but Elizabeth had her ways of making him forget things.

One more week and the gallery would be open, Carly would be displayed and bought all over town, and hopefully disappear. After which he would tell Elizabeth the truth about her, and it wouldn't matter because she wouldn't be in their lives anymore.

Ha.

Even he wasn't stupid enough to think he'd get that lucky.

"Come on, Jase," she sighed, getting up and walking over to him, her hips swaying back and forth in a rhythm he unfortunately remembered all too well. "It's a little funny."

"Elizabeth doesn't cook. Or buy my clothes. Or do my laundry," he corrected, not bothering to add that he usually did all of that.

She just liked to come along and tell him how good he looked in a suit, and he liked her to come along with the hopes of getting her into the dressing room. So far, it hadn't happened, but he was wearing her down with every shopping trip.

"You still don't like to be teased, do you?" she pouted, sticking out her lower lip.

"Do you know when she's going to be back?" Jason asked, scratching his chin as he started past her.

"I can't believe after everything we've been through you're acting like you don't even know me," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I would have thought after everything we've been through-"

"I haven't seen or heard from you in years," he reminded her, pinching the bridge of his nose when she took a step towards him.

"Aren't you the tiniest bit sad?" she asked, touching his arm.

No, actually he liked it that way.

"Look, I don't know what you're doing here, Carly," he replied, stepping back and holding up his hands. "But this – I'm with Elizabeth, so you need to respect that and her."

"Geez, someone's awfully touchy," she muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "I just wanted to catch up with my old friend. I moved out of town for a while after I got into some trouble."

"With Sonny?" he asked pointedly, reminding her of the other guy she'd slept with while seeing Jasonhim.

Supposedly he was the head of organized crime in New York City, and Jason wasn't about to fight him for a woman. BesidesHe he would have gladly handed Carly over to him, all wrapped up in a bow.

"How is he?" he asked, amused when her eyes darkened.

"We see each other from time to time," she shrugged. "We even lived together for a while, and we talked about getting married, but…Sonny loves Sonny."

Just like Carly loved Carly.

Whatever.

Why was he giving this the time of day?

"Well, I'm going to go wait in my car for Elizabeth," he muttered, backing out of the doorway, too afraid to turn his back on her. "I'm sure I'll catch her outside."

"Are you really going to marry her?" Carly asked, following him out of the office.

Son of a fucking bitch.

"Carly-"

"I'm just asking," she defended, resting her hands on her slim hips.

"It's not any of your business," he murmured, continuing towards the door.

"I'm curious about what she's got that no other woman has," she laughed, clearly not the getting point as she followed him to the door. "I mean, is Jason Morgan is really going to settle down?"

The F.E. was going to be the death of him.

"Look, Carly-" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Elizabeth opening the door, a bag from Kelly's under her arm.

"Hey," she called out, grinning widely as she hurried over to him, stretching to brush her lips against his.

Damn.

It wasn't right that a woman in a peacoat and stilettos could make him forget everything.

"I know we were supposed to go shopping for you some new suits today, but I'm sort of swamped here," she grimaced, holding the bag out to Carly. "The opening is in a week, and we have to get the displays set up, and I have a couple interviews for café employeesfor some works in the café. Do you think-"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted, failing to ignore Carly's smirk. "I'm sure I've got some at home that still have the tags on them."

"Are you sure?" she asked, arching her eyebrows at him.

"No problem," he replied, leaning over to kiss her briefly, pulling away when her mouth started to

linger on his. "Don't work too hard. I'll see you tonight."

**********

"You're still here?"

Jason's eyes lifted from the books he was going over and nodded at Johnny, who was stepping into his office and closing the door. "Why are you here?"

He shrugged, slipping his hands in his pocket as he walked over to the desk. "Didn't want to go home."

"Fight with the wife?" he teased, leaning back in his chair and grinning at him.

"Fuck you," Johnny replied, sitting down across from him. "I take it you haven't told Elizabeth yet."

"Nope," he answered, shaking his head. "And I'm not going to until after the opening."

"Jason," he started to scold, stopping when his friend glared at him. "I'm just saying that the sooner the better."

"What did you to do to piss Lulu off?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It's nothing," he replied, obviously not wanting to get into his problems, which Jason had to admire.

It was so unlike O'Brien not to bring everyone down with his problems like he used to, and Lulu was definitely the one who deserved credit for it. She forced him to grow up, or rather, he listened to her over everyone else in his life.

Stupid man in love with a stupid woman.

"I went to see Elizabeth today," Jason said, having needing to tell someone about what happened with Carly. "_She_ was there."

"And Elizabeth wasn't," Johnny snickered, enjoying this more than he should.

"It's not funny, you asshole," he growled, rubbing his hands over his face. "She started talking about how I was domesticated, and she couldn't believe I was getting married-"

"She's getting in your head, Jason," he said seriously, his jaw tightening. "You know how women like her work. She's jealous because – well, she was the first woman to have some Jason Mor-"

"Oh, don't even fucking say it like that," he interrupted disgustedly.

"It's true," he defended seriously, leaning forward in his chair. "You know how you get when you sleep with a woman, and I know what it feels like to be the first-"

"You're creeping me the fuck out now," Jason cut in, getting up from his chair and gathering up the books. "Carly slept with Sonny. She ended whatever was there-"

"And you were relieved," he chimed in gleefully. "You even tried to pawn that psychopath off on me."

"Usually you don't care about having seconds," he muttered, opening the filing cabinet and taking his time as he filed the books.

"Don't get me wrong, I like my women crazy, but she was a real piece of work," he said, hanging his head. "God, we couldn't even go to Jake's for like a year because you were afraid of running into her."

"With good reason," he reminded him, slamming the cabinet closed. "I went. She was there. And then the first woman I talked to ended up with a drink in her face."

"This is why you should have been nicer to Elizabeth," Johnny laughed, getting up as Jason grabbed his leather jacket from the closet. "She would have gone toe- to- toe with Carly instead of doing paint-by-numbers."

"Fuck you," he hissed, shrugging on his jacket, not wanting to admit that _that_ was exactly why he didn't want her to know about Carly.

**********

"What time is it?"

Jason looked over at the bed to see Elizabeth yawning and lifting her head as he set her sketchbook on the nightstand. "Late," he replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and kicking off his shoes. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't," she sighed, scooting across the bed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. He shivered when he felt her hand on his back. "I was sketching. I must have dozed off."

"You mean waiting up?" he teased, standing up to shrug off his jeans.

"No – well, maybe," she grinned, curling up on her side.

He laughed softly as he slid beneath the covers, waiting for her to settle into the crook of his arm before getting comfortable. "Elizabeth," he groaned, his hand skimming over her bare back.

"What?" she giggled, her voice tired as she smoothed her hand over his chest, adjusting the covers over them so that her entire bare body was pressed against his.

"You're trying to kill me," he growled, gently stroking her back.

"You came home too late," she teased, tipping her head back to look at him. "I had big plans for you tonight, Morgan."

"Sorry about that," he replied, sounding as tired as she looked. Normally a statement like that would have had him rolling her over and taking her without thinking about it, but tonight, he was just exhausted.

"Your loss," she laughed, nuzzling against his chest. "I'm tired."

"Me too," he agreed, lifting his head to kiss the top of her head. "It was a long day."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering closed. "Jason?"

"Hmm?" he grunted.

"I didn't mean to pull out on shopping this afternoon. Or dinner the other night. Or breakfast the day before," she apologized, looking up at him again. "This opening is driving me crazy, and I've been blowing you off-"

"Work's been busy for me too," he interrupted, shrugging it off. "Besides, I had a good time this morning."

Blushing, she curled back against his side. "All I wanted to do today was this," she murmured, starting to doze off.

She started snoring lightly a few seconds later, and he wondered if she'd even been awake for their entire conversation. "Yeah," he sighed, his stomach suddenly churning. "Me too."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Yeah, I'll be there early," Jason murmured, rolling his neck from side to side as he frowned at himself in the mirror.

Fucking suits.

"Early would be before the gallery officially opens," Elizabeth teased, giggling softly.

"I'm getting dressed now," he replied, tossing his tie down on the bed, and undoing the first couple of buttons on his dress shirt. It didn't help much, but he was starting to feel like he could breathe. "What are you wearing?"

"Jason," she groaned, the sound of her office door closing coming through the phone.

"Hey, I was only asking because you were having such a hard time deciding this morning," he defended, grinning at the thought of her parading around the bedroom in various dresses and skimpy underwear.

"Which one was your favorite?" she asked, obviously wanting to know if he'd actually been looking at the dresses.

"I liked the green," he replied, adjusting his jacket in the mirror as he took one last look at himself.

"The green one?" She sounded surprised. "It was…"

Unrevealing.

But he wasn't going to tell her that.

The first one had a slit up the back that made him groan on sight, and he wasn't about to have a room full of men admiring her like that. She could wear that for him some other time. And the second had been blue, dark blue, one so deep it matched her eyes, and the plunging neckline would have kept him from looking at her face all night.

The worst part?

He knew Elizabeth knew what he was thinking as she pranced around the room. Some days he wondered if she was really out to kill him.

That was why he chose the green one; it wasn't form fitting, had a high neck, and would keep him from having more than the normal amount of dirty thoughts.

And if all else failed, she had an office in the back of the gallery.

Sleeping with the boss paid.

"Jason?" she laughed, and he knew she had caughtwas on to his train of thoughtthinking.

"Yeah?," he asked, tucking his wallet into the inside pocket of his jacket and starting out of the bedroom.

"I said I wore the green dress, nerd," she replied, and he imagined she was rolling her eyes. "You leaving now?"

"Yeah," he said, starting down the stairs as someone knocked on the door. "Someone's here. I should be there in soon."

"Sounds good," she murmured quietly. "Oh, and Jason?"

"Yeah?" he muttered, looking through the peephole to see Johnny standing in the hallway.

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

_Click. _

So fucking much for having pure thoughts the rest of the night.

"One second," he groaned, taking a deep breath as he flicked the lock on the door.

She really was going to be the death of him.

"Took you long enough," Johnny hissed, sounding panicked as he brushed past him. "We have to talk."

"I have to get down to the gallery. Elizabeth is waiting," he muttered, hoping it could wait for at least an hour.

His girlfriend was across town waiting on him – _without underwear. _

"We're good, right?" he asked, ignoring Jason's plea to wait till later.

"Yeah," Jason answered dumbly, raising his eyebrows at him.

"Because if you were going to do something – I mean, something _big_ -, you'd tell me about it, wouldn't you?" he asked, raking a hand nervously through his hair. "I get that I've kept things from you, and I've been a shitty friend, but-"

"Uh, yeah, I tell you pretty much everyanything," he interrupted, frowning heavily, having no idea what the fuck O'Brien was talking about.

"Good. I know that I didn't tell you when I was proposing to Lulu or bringing her to town, but I was so afraid of what Elizabeth would do," he sighed, tugging at his collar as he looked at Jason. "Well?"

"What?" he asked flatly, getting more and more agitated that this was keeping him from his waiting girlfriend.

_Without underwear. _

That phone call basically said come do me before the opening, and Johnny was standing here ruining it all.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Johnny asked, his hands on his hips, looking like a father talking down to his son.

It all felt so very odd to Jason.

"No, not really, so if you don't mind," he said, shaking his head as he opened the door. "I've got to get to Elizabeth. She's-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he interrupted, throwing his hands up. "You're not going to tell me." Jason just stared at him. "I don't know what pisses me off more. That Lulu was let in on the fucking secret or that I was left out."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he cried, starting to think that O'Brien had really fallen off the wagon.

"You and Elizabeth," he hissed, pointing angrily at him. "You're fucking eloping, and you weren't even going to tell me. I know about the fucking dress, and you and Elizabeth tux shopping last week. I can't believe you weren't going to tell me that you're marrying her. I mean, I thought Lulu and I would at least get to be there."

"Whoa," Jason barked, holding his hand up at him. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"You. Elizabeth. Eloping. Without. _Me_," he said slowly, ticking the items off on his fingers.

Wait.

Eloping?

A dress?

A tux?

"I'm, uh, lost," he murmured, wondering if his friend was going to piece this together for him.

Scratching his chin, Johnny frowned, and started to back away. "You mean, you're not getting married? Like soon? Because Lulu and Elizabeth were talking about the dress she bought and-"

"Dress?" he scoffed, his throat going dry. "Elizabeth bought a wedding dress?"

"Erm, uh, you know, I just remembered I was supposed to meet my wife before the opening. And you said, your wife – fiancé – _woman_ was waiting too," he muttered, whistling quietly as he started for the door.

"Uh, uh," Jason growled, stepping between him and the door. "Tell me _everything_."

**********

"I think I'm starting to freak out," Elizabeth moaned, falling into her desk chair and covering her face within her hands.

"Just take a few deep breaths, drink some water, and hide out for a little bit," Lulu cringed, closing the office door behind them. She walked over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. "There's a really good turnout. More than you expected."

"More _press_ than I expected," she muttered, holding her arm over her face as she took the water.

"You remind me of my mother when she's getting ready to launch a big line," Lulu laughed, sitting down on the edge of the desk. "And you know what she always says?"

"I'm the Great Laura Spencer, you can't write anything bad about me?," she asked, dropping her arm from her face.

"No," she replied seriously, as if Elizabeth had just said the most ridiculous thing ever. "There is no such thing as bad press."

"I'm pretty sure someone else said that, and your're mother just stole it," she said sarcastically, unscrewing the lid on the bottle. She cringed when she saw Lulu's face fall. She took a drink of water and leaned forward to hold her head between her knees, preparing for a full on panic attack. "Sorry. I appreciate you trying to calm me down, but I'm a mess right now. Every newspaper reporter I talk to keeps asking me about my lovely fiancé and asking where he iswas and…"

"Well, you said Jason was on his way," Lulu murmured, standing over her and carefully pulling her curls away from her face. "Deep breaths, now. Your fiancé will show up and be his perfectly charming self. Everything will be just fine."

"Hmph," she grunted, thinking that would be realisticnice _if_ she had an actual fiancé.

When their engagement announcement had made it into the paper over the summer, Jason nearly sued the Herald, and this was going to be even worse. He was already so agitated and anxious about the topic coming up, and tomorrow morning, it would be everywhere in the press.

He would have a full blown hissy fit all over again.

Stupid fucking man.

"Lulu, can you just give me a minute?" she asked, slowly sitting up. She took another drink of the water and nodded that she was okay when her friend started to protest. "It'll pass. I just need a second to myself, and then I'll I will go back out there, and be the owner again."

"Okay," she murmured, hesitating as the door.

"Go," she grumbled, relieved when Lulu disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and held the cool water bottle against her forehead, willing this awful churning in her stomach to pass.

Where in the fuck was her fiancé – boyfriend?

Boyfriend.

Because they weren't engaged, even though everyone in town thought they were. No,And they weren't engaged, but they were business partners, whose last names were now plastered on the front of the gallery windows.

The Webber-Morgan Gallery.

Ha.

Somewhereone deep down inside she knew it didn't mean anything, but some part of her heart couldn't help but believe that it did. That maybe he wanted their last names hyphenated at some point in their lives, and it wasn't some ridiculous union scribbled on a building like names on a notebook.

What was she?

Fifteen?.

Fuck.

"Lulu, I told you-" She stopped when she opened her eyes and saw Carly slipping into the room, a nervous smile on her face. "Sorry to leave you and Patrick hanging out there. I just needed a moment."

"You aren't one for the spotlight, are you?" she asked, almost smirking at her.

Elizabeth would have laughed had she had had the energy because it was very clear that this was the type of night that a woman like Carly lived for. Everyone out there was looking at her, talking about her, murmuring appreciations, and trying to outbid one another on their favorite paintings. Elizabeth had been in her very shoes last summer , and it had been so nerve-racking to have all those people fawning over her. So much in fact that she and Jason had skipped out early on the festivities, but that night hadn't ended very well either when she thought about it.

Why did she have the dreadful feeling that tonight was going to be a repeat of that?

Fucking fate.

"Not really," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears as she pushed herself out of the chair, relieved when her knees didn't buckle. "Everyone is really excited about the artwork though."

"Yeah," Carly murmured, poking pencils around in the holder on the desk. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired," she shrugged, curious as to why the woman was suddenly so concerned. "Nervous. Ready for this night to be over."

"You can just slink around in the shadows. I'll tell everyone you're off somewhere with that handsome fiancé of yours," she teased, folding her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, if only he would show up," she sighed, rubbing two fingers against her forehead.

"Well, I'm going to get back out there," Carly said, grinning as she opened the door. "I mostly wanted to thank you for this opportunity, Elizabeth. I haven't had someone interested in my art in a while, and if I was in your shoes, I would have sent me packing immediately."

"Hmm?" she asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

The two hadn't spoken much since Elizabeth agreed to show her in the opening. She was here everyday working on setting up her work and discussing how she wanted things to look, but they hadn't really talked.

So this was weird.

Like really weird.

Suddenly, there was something about Carly she didn't like or trust, and maybe the feeling had been there all along, but Elizabeth pushed it aside because of her passion for art. Besides the majority of artists were self-involved, narcissists who didn't give a damn about anyone around them.

"Carly?" she asked, wanting her to elaborate on her statement.

"Oh," she answered, surprised, grinning – no, smirking? – as cutely as a woman like her could. "I just meant that I don't know if I could take having someone who had a relationship with my boyfriend-"

"Excuse me?" she interrupted, holding a slender finger up at her.

"Jason didn't tell you," she continued, trying to sound shocked, but falling very short. "I assumed since you two were getting married, especially when he stopped by yesterday and we-"

"You slept with Jason," she muttered, looking away from her, not wanting to see the confirmation.

"He acted like he told you."

Oh, hell.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

Oh, fucking hell.

"No, you're not," she laughed, shaking her head as she turned to look at her. "You knew exactly what you were doing…you can go now because I don't care whether you've slept with Jason or not." She stepped forward, narrowing her eyes at her, fists clenched at her side. "A lot of women have _fucked_ Jason, Carly. _A lot._ None of them have rings on their fingers."

"Good point," Carly shrugged, opening the door with a smirk. "And in case you failed to notice, there's not one on yours either."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"You knocked her through your office door," Jason repeated, tensely rubbing his fingers against his forehead as he stared at the floor.

Shrugging, Elizabeth leaned back in her desk chair, her eyes closed as she held the icepack against her fist. "I didn't mean to hit her _that_ hard," she defended weakly.

Honestly, she hadn't, but the very second Carly compared Elizabeth to every other woman that had been with Jason, she couldn't stop herself. Her fist flew out, and it was a damned good thing there wasn't a ring on any of her fingers, or else Carly would have needed stitches.

She still might have, but fortunately Jason had been on the other side of the door, and caught her before she hit the wall on the other side of the hallway. Of course, that didn't stop anyone from realizing what had happened, and sure enough, everyone rushed towards the tiny hallway in time to hear Elizabeth telling Carly the only thing she'd be painting in Port Charles was the graffiti off of buildings. There was a brief flashbulb at some point, and she really hoped it wasn't when she lunged at the stupid woman. And if it was, she hoped the fucker who took the picture at least made her look good.

"You want to tell me what's going on here?" he asked, walking over and sitting down on the edge of her desk. He smoothed his hands up and down his thighs as he looked at her, and she couldn't remember the last time he'd looked so nervous.

"You were late," she said, pressing the ice against her knuckles as hard as she could. "I was really nervous, and I started to panic, so I came in here to take a deep breath. She followed mean, and you know damn well what she said to me, Jason."

"Elizabeth, I was going to tell you," he replied, her heart swelling in her chest when he didn't try to deny anything. Silently, she scolded herself for not having more faith in him. "I wanted to wait until the opening was over because I didn't want – I didn't want to ruin this in anyway, especially because I had slept – slept with her."

"I know why you didn't tell me," she murmured, sniffling as her eyes filled with tears. "And I know why Carly did. Women like that love to humiliate everyone, but they just end up making a bigger fool out of themselves. Usually. Carly was quicker on the draw than I expected."

Looking at him seriously, she leaned forward. "It wasn't the lie so much – I mean, I know you would never keep something from me like this if it mattered. But she – she acted as if she were better than me because I didn't know the truth, because you had lied – or simply not told – or whatever you want to call it. So I told her to leave, to get the hell out because you had been with a lot of women, and none of them mattered."

Shaking her head, she got up from the chair and tossed the icepack down on her desk, wincing when she saw her knuckles were already bruised. "I told her that none of them mattered because I was – I was the one whose finger you'd put a ring on," she continued, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It was petty and stupid because – because there is no ring. And don't think she didn't hesitate to point that out."

"Elizabeth," he sighed, hanging his head.

"I'm not upset," she shrugged, swallowing hard. "It is what it is, and I guess in a way that I thought I was different-"

"You are different," he interrupted seriously, reaching out to take her hand and pull her towards him.

She kept her eyes on the floor, not wanting him to see how hurt she really was. The realization had been the worst kind of shake, one that brought her to reality, and forced her to see her life for all it was worth. She might have the gorgeous, smart, hilarious, and doting boyfriend, but a lot of other women had had him too. The only difference was she shared his bed more than they had.

"Don't you know what you are to me?" he asked quietly, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look him in the face.

"That's the thing, Jason," she admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You've never really told me. I know that we have so much fun together, and that I could never imagine not having you in my life. We laugh. We dream. We joke. We live. And that was all enough for me until tonight, and then I realized that I didn't have anything more than the ones that came before me."

"I don't – don't even know what to – to say," he stammered, swiping his thumb over her cheek before dropping his hand to his lap.

"Exactly," she said, jerking away from him. "You never say anything. You just expect me to know, but..."

"You know how I feel about you," he replied, shaking his head as she fussed around the office, gathering up her coat and purse.

"I do," she admitted sadly, shrugging her coat on as she looked at him.

And she did.

He treated her better than any man she'd ever met. He always had. He respected her thoughts and ideas and what few morals she lived by, and he never once belittled her or humiliated her to make himself feel better like so many men of her past.

And what she loved most – what she would never tell him – was that he looked at her like she was the only person he saw. In a crowded room, on a busy street, and even when it was just the two of them, he only saw her, and that was why she honestly believed they were going somewhere.

Now she wasn't so sure.

"I shouldn't have to hear it either," she sighed, rolling her eyes when they filled with tears. "And I don't because I do know how you feel because I _feel_ it, but I…"

"Like you just said, we laugh, we dream, we joke, and I've never had that with anyone else. I've never wanted to see someone's dreams come true or to be there when they did. And I've never failed to care about someone's wet towels or worried if they have enough closet space." He hesitated, shaking his head as if embarrassed by his honesty. "Elizabeth, you know that I don't want to be with anyone else," he replied seriously, scrubbing a hand exhaustedly over his face. "_Ever_."

"I know, but…I think I'm scared because…I don't know where this is going, Jason. I don't know where you and I will end up, and I'm wondering if you're just going to get bored and move on, or if you want things to be this way forever." She sucked in a breath, hanging her head as she started to cry. "Or if _I_ do."

"You're realizing all of this tonight?" he asked dumbly, looking confused.

"No, maybe. I don't know," she grumbled, folding her arms over chest. "I guess it's been there all along, and I didn't see it because I didn't want to. Because I can't fathom the idea of not being with you like _this_, and tonight – Carly made me wonder if I was more or less the same or if this would end any-"

"Elizabeth, you're not like any of those women," he interrupted hurriedly, walking over to her. "The only reason I didn't tell you about Carly was because she came right after the accident. You tried to be my friend and tried to be there, and I pushed you away and fell into the arms of someone else. I didn't want to remind you that I hurt you or-"

"I understand why you didn't tell me," she cut in, wishing he could see that this wasn't even why she was upset.

Hell, did she even know what was wrong?

He always made her into such a girl, and she hated him for it.

She hated him so damn much in this very moment.

Well, she wanted to.

"And I don't care about who you were with before me," she continued, taking a deep breath. "But I do care about me and us, and like I said, I want to know if there's more."

Sighing, he rolled his head from side to side, his eyes darkening to a shade of blue she didn't quite recognize. "This is about the F. – this is about the engagement, the lie that we've been leading since the summer."

She cringed, her entire body becoming one tightly connected knot, and she knew if he touched her or said the wrong thing, she'd uncoil in the worst possible way.

"I know about the dress," he said slowly, and she couldn't decide if he sounded disgusted or annoyed.

Not that one was better than the other.

"You bought a wedding dress," he muttered, this time sounding angry, and she knew she'd struck a nerve.

"Yes," she admitted, tightening her shoulders around herself protectively. "I bought a wedding dress."

It was the most embarrassing of confessions when she'd bought the gown in hopes that this very man would like to see her in it one day, and one look into his eyes, and she knew that he didn't.

"We're not engaged," he said flatly, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I know," she whispered, feeling like a scolded child, like he was going to explain to her why this was wrong.

He would never understand.

"So you bought the dress because…" He held his hands up, waiting for her to fill in the blanks, but she couldn't. "Did you think we would get married?"

Shrugging, she turned away, too scared to look at him. "Maybe…yes," she confessed, figuring now was the best time for honesty. "We talked and teased one another so much, and I – I thought maybe you liked the idea as much as I do."

Her heart caved in her chest, her throat closed up, and she couldn't breathe. She didn't really just tell a man like Jason Morgan that she wanted to marry him.

Then again, how in the hell hadn't he figured it out by now?

"I know that I'm not ideal wife material. That I can't cook or clean. Or I make a mess when I roll out of bed in the morning, but-"

"That has nothing to do with this. Nothing," he interrupted, sounding exhausted with the situation. "We haven't been together that long, Elizabeth."

She was thankful that her back was to him so he couldn't see her flinch as he pulled out the nails and started to drive them on in.

"…and we – we were messy when we started dating…"

Ouch.

"…and we just moved in with one another…"

Double ouch.

"…and this was a joke, something fun to talk about…"

The ouches were never going to end.

"…and it doesn't have anything to do with you…"

She just wanted to sink into the hardwood floors of her office and die.

Very quickly.

"I don't really want to get married. _Ever._"

Clenching her eyes closed, she turned around slowly to face him, hoping that if she took long enough she'd never have to look him in the face. That he would just leave. Or sulk out her broken door. Or sink into the hardwood floors of her office.

She wanted any of those to happen very quickly.

"Wait," he said, holding up one of his hands as her eyes fluttered open to meet his. "That's not what I-"

"Don't worry about it, Morgan," she interrupted, slinking towards the doorway, her head hung. "I heard you. I heard you loud and clear."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Sighing, Elizabeth stepped back from the dirty mirror on her studio wall, her eyes sweeping over the delicate silk as it hung snugly to her tiny form. Even after the night before, when the simple existence of this dress had ruined everything, she still couldn't find a flaw. It was the softest of materials, so smooth to the touch, and the sound of it rustling against the cement floor of her the studio gave her chills.

This was _the_ dress, and it would be the last time she wore it.

Despite how she felt for Jason, how deeply she adored and cared, they were never going to be married, and she'd known that all along.

She was just too afraid to face that he had and always would be Jason Morgan, no wife included, and for so long, she was okay with that, but now…

Well, she wanted to be Mrs. Morgan, and if that couldn't happen, she supposed she'd be okay because she didn't want to be Mrs. Anything Else.

"Elizabeth?"

"Wait," she cried, turning around in a hurry to see Johnny's head poking through her studio door as he knocked.

Because knocking first and being told to come in was something he never understood.

"Oh," he grunted, his eyes roaming over her, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"This is – is embarrassing," she muttered, her eyes filling with tears as she scrambled around, failing to actually do anything. It wasn't like she could change and or wipe this embarrassing incident away. "I just – I'm…"

"A girl," he filled in, slinking inside and closing the door behind him. "No wonder Jason's always on you to lock this damn thing."

"Yeah…" He cringed when she failed to smile or toss back a witty retort. Shrugging, she smoothed her hands over the front of the dress and carefully made her way over to him. "I – I wanted to wear it one last time."

"Last?" he asked, arching his eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, I called the boutique, and well, I guess they put two and two together after reading the morning paper, so…" The Herald had ran a story about the gallery opening, which was filled with several accounts of how the opener punched one of it's featuring artists in the face. Elizabeth was famous, but more so for breaking the engagement to her former fiancé, of Jason Morgan. How they managed to figure that out, she had no idea, but she assumed it had something to do with the people she passed on her way out of the gallery. "I'm returning it."

"Aw, come on, you can't do that," he argued, gently swiping away the few tears that slipped from her eyes.

"I don't have much of a choice, Johnny," she muttered, sniffling as she opened her eyes, surprised to find him staring at her so intently. "We're not – we're not getting married."

"Not right now," he shrugged, running his hand down her arm to take her hand. She stiffened when he held her arm up and slowly twirled her around, a silly, stupid grin on his face. "But that's _the_ dress. You can't take it back."

"You don't understand," she replied, turning away, and accidentally catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room. "Jason doesn't want to get married. _Ever_. I was – I was just caught up in some silly fantasy and this dress…"

"Is the one you want to wear when you get married, right?" he asked, stepping up behind her and resting his head chin on her shoulder.

"But I'm not," she reminded him, her heart tightening in her chest.

"So, you're not getting married right now," he sighed, moving beside her and sliding his arm over her shoulder. "Jason isn't ready, which doesn't surprise me because he can't do anything without overanalyzing it. And really, I doubt it's you that's holding him up. You know how he gets about business arrangements and-"

"This isn't business," she pointed out, pulling away from him. "I get that he's nervous or isn't ready, but…I just – I want to be something that he hasn't had before." She laughed under her breath and tipped her head towards Johnny. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," he nodded, making a face to show he wasn't really sure. "I mean, you already are unlike anyone he's ever been with, Elizabeth. You know everything there is to know about one another, and you're so close that you finish each others sentences and thoughts. Having a ring on your finger won't change any of that."

"So says the married man," she commented, dropping her eyes to his ring.

"Being married isn't easy," O'Brien shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "It's exhausting and frustrating and-"

"You and Lulu make it look easy," she interjected, smiling faintly. "And before you start telling me how it's not all warm and fuzzies, I know that. Even I'm not that idealistic, but I think the whole point of it is that at the end of the day, you're still together. And you know that you have Lulu-"

"And do you not have Jason with or without a ring, right?" he asked, grinning when she didn't answer.

"I know what you're saying, Johnny," she replied, twisting her hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. "I really do, but that doesn't change what I want now, andor that he doesn't want that, so…"

"You have to figure out what you both want together," he filled in understandingly.

"Exactly," she sighed, biting her lip as she continued to twist her messy curls. "We're not on the same page, and we haven't been for a while, which means we have to – to step back." Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away. "And I'm afraid if I do that, I'm going to hurt him."

"Look, I know the past is in the past and all that," he said nervously, forcing a smile at her, "but Jason isn't me. He's not going to run off or do something stupid, and he's not going to find someone else because he knows he's supposed to be with you. I know it. You know it. The whole damn town knows it."

"I wouldn't say that," she chuckled, surprised that he was helping her feel better.

"You just don't want to see it," he murmured, walking over and pulling her into a hug. "I have to get going. I just wanted to check on you. I figured you wouldn't go home last night, and Lulu said you left the gallery in tears."

"Yeah," she cringed, remember how Lulu tried to stop her, and she'd told her to go to hell. "Tell her I'm sorry about that."

"She understands, but if you need anything…" He held his hands up to show that he was there, and she couldn't help but grab onto his offerm immediately.

"Actually," she said slowly. "I could use a favor."

**********

"I got your message," Jason said, leaning against the doorway of his room, his shaky hands tucked in his pockets.

Elizabeth didn't look up from the bed as she neatly stacked clothes in a suitcase, her shoulders filling with tension. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

He'd been waiting for her to call all night, and when she finally did and said she needed to talk to him, he wanted to put it off and delay the inevitable. He didn't want to see how badly he hurt her or how red her eyes were from tears. Watching her walk out of her office the night before had been enough, and he would have gone after her had he knew how to fix this.

Of all the ways he had put his foot in his mouth before, none had been this bad. He was used to screwing up and saying the wrong thing, which often led to her teasing him for days on and days, but this was different.

She wanted to go forward, while he was happy where they were, and he wasn't sure if they could get past this. He didn't blame her for buying the dress, for dreaming of the wedding day she always wanted, especially when he had entertained the idea for months and months. And while he was set on their comments being made in jest, he should have known that it was impossible for them not to be taken to heart in some way.

Hell, even he was guilty of daydreaming away the possibility of them actually walking down the aisle, but his dreams often fell short. He just couldn't seem to make it to the end of the aisle, to be standing there with her in a white dress, and he couldn't really envision putting a ring on her finger.

And if that made him a bastard, then he was willing to bear the title, especially since he'd hurt her.

"It's not a problem," he muttered, swallowing hard as she closed the suitcase, her trembling hands fumbling with the zipper. "So, you're, uh, you're moving… out?"

"Jason," she said softly, turning around and sitting down on the edge of the bed. She shook her head, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he muttered roughly, trying to ignore how bare the open closet looked.

"I'm not – I'm not breaking up with you," she stammered, pulling her lip back and forth between her teeth. "I'm not, and I hope that – that by doing this you don't want to break up because I don't want that. Not at all."

"I don't either," he said, slowly walking over to her, not sure how close was too close.

"I stayed up all night thinking about us, what I did, and what I want…" She shrugged helplessly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I think we moved too fast. We dated one day and practically moved in with one another the next…I know our situation was unique, but I feel like it's been too much."

"I see," he swallowed, understanding that she had a point, but also thinking it was what they had _both_ wanted.

"I think I was too caught up in the idea of what moving in with you meant – that it meant we were moving forward, towards a _definite_ commitment. And I know this is a commitment in its own way, but…" She paused, wiping her eyes. "I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to marry you, and I don't think that's a feeling that will go away."

He didn't know how to respond to that. No woman had ever actually wanted to marry him before. Well, they had, usually in some silly, drunken stupor. But no woman had ever wanted to marry him in a serious, together forever kind of way. Or if they had, he hadn't cared abut any of them like he did her.

Fuck, this was so confusing.

"And I'm not going to give you some stupid ultimatum," she said firmly, reaching out to take his hand. "What it really comes down to is that I want to marry you, only you, and if you don't want that, then…" She tugged his arm, pulling him closer and laced their fingers together. "Then I need time, I think. Gosh, I don't even know if I'm making sense anymore."

"No, no, you are," he murmured, kneeling down in front of her. "I mean, I don't like the idea of you leaving, but if it's what you want…"

"I'm not trying to hurt you or punish you, Jason," she whispered, hanging her head. "I just feel like this is what – we need to slow down."

"Then we'll slow down," he agreed, trying to hide how much it was tearing him up to side with herinside.

Suddenly, he couldn't imagine not coming home to her, or picking her towels up from the floor, or bringing her coffee in the morning. The penthouse was going to be a lot bigger, bigger than he ever remembered, and he wasn't sure if he could exist in the extra space.

"I know I – I hurt you," he stammered, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I shouldn't have lied about Carly, and I shouldn't have gotten upset over a fucking dress, but…"

"It's okay," she shrugged, chewing her lip nervously. "Carly was _nothing_, and really, the dress was _something_, so I understand."

He tried to decide what exactly it was about the dress that scared him so much. If it was the finality or the idea, but honestly, he'd never been able to wrap his head around being married.

Maybe it was because he hadn't been in the position or the idea of being with someone forever scared him.

Except being with Elizabeth forever didn't scare him.

Fuck, this was _really_ confusing.

"We'll be okay," she said firmly, sounding like she was mostly trying to convince herself. "It's just a step back for a little while. We'll still see each other. And go out. And…"

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied, cupping her cheek in his hand and forcing her to look at him. "You take as long as you need, and I'll still be here, and if you decide…" He couldn't finish the thought because he hadn't even contemplated it yet.

What if she didn't want to be with him?

What if it was marriage or nothing else?

"I don't want anyone else," she whispered, sniffling as a tear rolled down her cheek. Leaning forward, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. "I'm really sorry that this is hurting you."

"Stop," he muttered, brushing his lips against her temple, and wishing she would stop acting like she'd done something wrong. "This was…it was building, and maybe it could have happened better, but…"

The end result would have probably been the same.

"I better – I better go," she sighed, pulling herself out of his arms. "I, uh, I talked to Johnny earlier. I'm going – I'm going to stare there. I was going to stay at my studio, but it's not really livable." She turned around and pulled her suitcase off the bed, setting it upright on its wheels. "I hope that doesn't bother you."

"It's fine," he nodded, not sure why she was so worried about him.

"Well," she said, taking a deep breath. She grabbed her suitcase, stopping to press a brief kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I'll call, okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, dropping his gaze to the floor as she wheeled the suitcase out of the room and down the hall. He flinched with each low boom it made on the stairs, swearing under his breath when the penthouse door closed behind her.

He wanted to go after her, beg her to stay, and find a way to fix this now, but he couldn't. Easing himself down on the bed, he scrubbed his hands over his face as silence filled the room.

Fuck, this was beyond confusing.

Worse than anything he'd ever felt before.

He shifted on the bed when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he almost didn't answer, but already had a feeling about who was on the line. "Yeah?"

"Meet you at the bar?"

"See you in ten," he replied, snapping his phone closed and getting up from the bed.

Surely, the right amount of booze would drown out the right amount of booze always drowned out the silence.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"I get it," Elizabeth sighed, swirling her wine around in her glass as she carefully set it down on Lulu's couch. With her luck, she'd spill red wine all over the white sofa, and Lulu would cry. Then again, she probably knew every damn technique to get rid of the stain. "I know what I did."

"You didn't do anything," Lulu replied, easing back against the cushions, an untouched glass of wine in her hand. "Jason ended your engagement."

She wasn't surprised that her friend was playing the Good Girlfriend Card, damning the stupid boy to hell and back, but Lulu had been in Jason's position before. Her sentiments were nice, but what she needed was honesty.

"You ended yours with Johnny for a short period," she reminded her, taking a long sip and swirling the liquid around in her mouth. "You love him. That had to be hard."

"I wasn't thinking clearly," she shrugged, leaning forward to set her wine glass on a coaster. "It's so easy to get everyone else's voices in your head and forget about what _you_ want. Granted, my situation with Johnny was different, but maybe that's what Jason needs. Time to step back and rethink his decision."

"It's not that simple," Elizabeth said, shoving her curls behind her ear. "I broke the rules."

"Rules?" she asked curiously.

"Jason and I were supposed to be fun, stay fun, and not become something serious and stressful. That's why we work so well together," she replied, pausing to take another sip of her wine. "And we may have flirted with the idea of marriage, but we both agreed it was something we never wanted, and then – well, things just happened."

"An engagement doesn't just happen," Lulu said seriously, tucking her legs beneath her. "Sure, you guys may have been caught up in some crazy whirlwind that started with mine and Johnny's wedding, but Jason asked you to marry him for a reason. He doesn't strike me as the kind to make a hasty decision."

"Yeah," she grunted, rolling her eyes, because he didn't have to make hasty decisions when she was doing it for him.

"And you had an entire fall of weddings," the blonde continued, "which made it easy for you to dream about what you wanted. You saw a beautiful wedding, _your_ beautiful wedding, and Jason was probably focusing on how everyone was getting married, and he's almost the last one standing. You saw what every woman sees, and he kept thinking about the ball and chain. Maybe with some time to think, he'll change his mind."

"It's complicated," Elizabeth sighed, propping arm on the back of the couch and resting her chin in her hand.

She was relieved when Lulu grew quiet, letting her drink and think in silence. Elizabeth really wanted to explain everything from the beginning; the entire, stupid truth about the F.E., but she couldn't. It was humiliating to admit to herself that she had gone along with a fake engagement in hopes that it would become real, let alone to admit to her closest friends.

Every since leaving the penthouse, she'd tried to think of when things changed, when the engagement had become real instead of fake, and when she honestly thought she'd make it down the aisle. For so long, she had no intentions of getting married, being a wife, and having a picket fence.

Hell, she and Jason mocked their best friends mercilessly behind their backs every time they did something that resembled domestication.

Having Jason to come home to, to share her life with had been enough until now, and she couldn't figure out why. She supposed it may have been Carly that got to her. After all, she was the one who presented all the thoughts of Elizabeth being no better than the other women Jason had been with. And Johnny was right; she had Jason in more ways than anyone ever would because she had the most important thing of all.

Elizabeth had his heart.

There was no doubt in her mind that he loved her.

They never said it, let alone whispered such endearments, but she felt it.

Why else would he put up with her antics? Never complaining about the money she spent. Or the closet space she took up. Never caring aboutto givinge her the last cup of coffee. Or to make sure she was warm, fed, and happy.

It was a mutual adoration, one that she had never shared with another man before. She was willing to put up with Jason's obsessive-compulsive ways with office supplies and travel books. And she didn't mind when he ranted about her scratching the damn pool table or how bad her coffee was.

She could say and do anything and know that Jason was going to be on her side. Or rather, she could. Things were different now, and they'd have to figure this out whether the end result was good or bad.

Still, she saw how much he loved her in his eyes when she walked out of the penthouse, knowing that only someone who loved her wouldn't chase her and beg her to stay. To have stopped her now wouldn't mean anything, except that he was desperate to have her. She didn't want him to propose, to say that he wanted to marry her, when really all it would be was a last minute save, his way of keeping her.

A proposal now would be a lie, Jason's attempt to appease her and sacrifice what he wanted, even though without one she supposed she was making a sacrifice too.

"I need more wine," she muttered, after bringing the empty glass to her lips.

Without a word, Lulu leaned forward, grabbed her glass from the coffee table, and handed it over.

"You okay?" her friend asked, eyeing her nervously after Elizabeth did nothing but quietly sip her wine, her face expressionless.

"I think," she replied, nibbling her lip as her eyes filled with tears.

She wanted to marry him.

Not just because of what Carly had said or because Elizabeth wanted to be different from any other woman Jason had been with.

She wanted to like _really_ marry him.

Because she loved him.

No. F.E.

No fucking lies.

No teasing about domestication.

A bended knee.

A ring.

A freaking church with a priest.

Fuck, this had all gone to hell.

**********

"Another," Jason ordered, tapping the bar with a slender finger as he looked at Coleman. "And keep them coming."

"I think it's about time you switched to water," O'Brien muttered, grimacing as his friend tossed back another shot of tequila.

"Uh, uh," he argued, shaking his head, and slapping a fifty down on the bar when Coleman slid a few shots over to him. "When you want to drink, I let you. Now, I want to drink, and you'll…" He trailed off, clearly well on his way to a mind-numbing drunken stupor. Slamming his shot glass down the counter, he just looked at Johnny. "Yeah."

"You're wasted," he sighed, taking a sip of his beer.

"It's all fucked," Jason groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face as he took another shot, relieved that his friend wasn't pressuring him to talk about what had happened.

Even though Johnny already knew.

Obviously, Elizabeth had asked him to call and check up on Jason after she left. The timing was too perfect, and Johnny had given him that_ I'm sorry your life fucking sucks_ once-over when Jason walked in the bar.

All of this over a fucking dress.

The day that Elizabeth started the F.E., he'd been beyond livid, angry to the point that he couldn't even look at his girlfriend. And when Lulu announced to the entire fucking room that her best friends were now engaged, he really wanted to leave, but he didn't. Instead, he followed his girlfriend onto the dance floor as requested by the bride, and they danced with all the other stupid couples at the wedding.

All of whom would leave sloshed, horny, and not engaged.

By the time they left the wedding, he and Elizabeth were only one out of the three. And really, when weren't they horny? The engagement had been the last thing on his mind, especially when Elizabeth was so determined to make it up to him, mostly by using her mouth, and he wasn't going to argue that.

He'd been angry when the article ran in the paper with quotes from the Quartermaines, his annoyance continuing when he was wished good luck from new associates, and what upset him most was the teasing. The guys at work, Johnny, Coleman – every fucking man he came across laughed about how Jason Morgan had fallen in the worst of ways.

Eventually, his annoyance subsided. It probably helped that Elizabeth was so damned determined to make things up. The engagement existed only as a joke; wedding cakes, magazines, first dances, elopements – so much was said in jest, like most truths.

"She wants to marry me," he said, hanging his head exhaustedly.

"I thought you two were past this," Johnny laughed, gently slapping him on the shoulder. "You got cold feet?"

"I never had feet," he replied, grabbing another shot in hopes the alcohol would keep O'Brien from asking questions.

What kind of grown man had a fucking faux-engagement?

And then made plans for the said engagement.

And then got mad when the plans were taken seriously.

"You should slow down, Jason," he begged, grimacing when his friend swallowed the shot and grabbed another. "Seriously."

"The penthouse is empty," he replied, talking mostly to himself. "She took her clothes, so I have this big, stupid closet staring at me. And she'll come back and take her books and her damn paintbrushes and her dirty laundry and…" He tossed back the shot and looked over at Johnny. "I'll just have…cleanliness everywhere."

"Did you try to stop her?" Johnny asked, nursing his beer.

"Why?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "I would have looked desperate."

"And that's a bad thing?" he challenged, shaking his head.

"I can't propose now," Jason replied spitefully. "It'll look like I'm doing it to do it."

"Would you be doing it to do it?" he asked seriously, a smile spreading across his face. "Because if you weren't, then you probably got scared, which we all do. You have no idea how long I carried that ring around in my pocket before I finally asked Lulu to marry me."

Jason just stared at him, not wanting to point out that they hadn't dated that long, and really, no one expected their marriage to last.

Except that it would, which meant Lulu would always be around. And that made Johnny happy, so he wasn't going to complain.

God, he was mean.

And drunk.

And fiancé-less, so he wouldn't say anything he would most definitely regret in the morning.

"I knew I wanted to marry her the very night I met her," he continued, his eyes softening. "She hated me, but I was head over heels. I was confused because of how I left things with Elizabeth, but I knew that I wanted to be with Lulu. Forever. I can't explain it. It was just a force I couldn't find."

"Alright, Hallmark, that's enough," Jason muttered, frowning at him.

His best friend, his former bachelor, drinking partner, panty chaser was now a married, honest, doting man.

It was almost disgusting, except Jason envied him, even if he couldn't figure out why.

Honestly, Lulu was the most annoying woman he'd ever met, surpassing Elizabeth, who at one point ranked above all else. His best friend's wife was overly perfect with pressed clothes and meals that looked like they belonged in a five star restaurant. It both baffled and amused Jason that out of all the women Johnny had ever been with, he'd chosen her.

But he'd be damned if they didn't fit together.

Like him and Elizabeth, they were extreme opposites, and sometimes he still wondered what they had in common. One loud, one quiet, one messy, one neat, and it was just a fucking confusing mess when he really thought about it.

Fucking relationships.

Stupid, seriously, committed relationships.

He wasn't used to this.

Hell, most of the women he dated had relationships in the bedroom, and sometimes an occasional dinner or drink. They were like Carly, and to have Elizabeth placed in the same category as them made his stomach churn.

All he could think about was how she once tried to place herself in that category, how she'd been determined to be as good as those girls at Jake's, failing to see that she was in a category all her own. He thought that by now she would see the truth; that she was everything – beautiful, smart, funny, witty, and so damned annoying that he had to have a good reason to put up with her.

Instead she'd ended up feeling like everyone else, and he had idea how they'd gotten to this point. He was there in every possible way, willing to give her whatever she needed and wanted, and he'd take all the damn crap she gave him as long as she stayed by his side.

He thought if he cared enough, adored enough – ah, fuck it, _loved_ her enough – then just maybe they would always be together.

Fuck.

He _loved_ her.

The way you were supposed to love someone.

The way that was different than he ever had any other person in his life.

Hell, she may be the only person he truly loved.

_Ever. _

"Fucking dress," he muttered, sliding an empty shot glass back and forth between his hands.

"I don't think this is about the dress," Johnny said quietly, grimacing when Jason tipped his head towards him. "Jason, come on. You proposed."

Except he hadn't, only he couldn't explain that to his best friend because it was too damned embarrassing.

"You got cold feet."

Hadn't he already told him he had no feet?

"And now, you're upset because maybe, deep down you really do want to marry her. Only now you can't because you made this huge fucking deal over a dress, and she's sad, and you're sad, and now-"

"Fuck you," he hissed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

When had the room started spinning?

Married, _for real?_

Like in a tuxedo.

And uncomfortable shoes.

With all those damn people staring.

While he said things.

And danced.

With Elizabeth.

Oh, son of a bitch.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Good morning!" Lulu chimed, grinning widely as Elizabeth shuffled her way into the kitchen. The brunette cringed as she slumped into the chair beside Johnny,; the blonde's voice at exceptionally high decibelsdecimals – no thanks to the wine – as Lulu chattered on. "I made a big breakfast. You didn't eat dinner last night, so I figured you'd be famished. If there's something you want that's not here, just let me know, and I'll be happy to throw it together."

Elizabeth nodded dumbly, her stomach churning as she looked at the array of breakfast foods in front of her; pancakes, French toast, eggs, hashbrowns, sausage, bacon, and some very adorable pastries. No doubt they were cooked up by Betty Crocker herself.

"Thanks," she muttered, reaching for her cup of coffee, and debating what she would actually be able to stomach without having to throw it up later.

Way too much fucking wine.

"Do you have plans today?" Lulu asked, taking her seat after refilling Johnny's cup and pressing a tender kiss to her husband's temple.

"I don't think so," she replied, nibbling her lip as she tried to think of what she had to do. It felt like she was missing something.

"Perfect. Johnny has to meet Jas…" She trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked at her husband.

"You can say his name," Elizabeth muttered, grabbing a piece of bacon from aits platter, and noticing how Lulu cringed when she didn't use the allotted fork to pick it up. "Jason. Jason. Jason. See? The world isn't ending. I'm not bursting into tears. And – and we're not broken up. We're just trying to figure things out, and sometimes the best way to do that is apart…"

Dropping her eyes to her lap, she popped a piece of the bacon into her mouth and chewed quietly. Lulu cleared her throat and got up from the table as Johnny stirred cream in his coffee, the husband and wife silently disagreeing with Elizabeth's statements.

Okay, so maybe it did feel a little like the world was ending.

And maybe she wanted to burst into tears.

Because broken up or not, this was still hurting in every possible way.

The wine could only numb the reality for so long.

"So, uh, what are you doing today?" she asked, sipping her coffee as she watched Lulu bustle around the kitchen.

"Well, John told me that Christmas is your favorite holiday," Lulu grinned, glancing dotingly at her husband whose grimace went unnoticed by his wife. "And I know we're going to meet my family in Manhattan for the holidays, but I still wanted to decorate the house since it's our very first Christmas."

Oh, hell.

Christmas.

Amidst all the chaos, her favorite holiday had snuck up on her.

Before the gallery came along, she'd been anxiously awaiting the holiday season, excited that she'd be able to drag Jason along for all the festivities, and that, just maybe, he'd enjoy them. Last year had been their first Christmas holiday without Johnny since Jason's accident, and he'd begrudgingly allowed Elizabeth to steer them towards Christmas cheer. Regardless of whether he admitted it or not, she'd seen the twinkle in his eyes when the credits rolled at the end of _It's A Wonderful Life_.

So it was natural to have her sights set on turning him into a full blown Christmas freak by December 25th, and she could get Jason to do practically anything she wanted, so this was going to be a piece of cake.

Until the stupid FE.

And the gallery opening.

And Carly.

And fucking wedding dresses.

And the realization that she wanted to marry him more than anything in the entire world.

When had she become such a stupid, freaking girl?

"I've already bought a ton of decorations, and I figured we could go shopping for more since you love it so much." Lulu hesitated, looking again at Johnny who was keeping his nose buried in his paper. "We want you to feel like our home is your home, especially since it's the holidays."

"Yeah," she grunted, rolling her head from side to side as she eased back against her chair, her hands wrapped tightly around her steaming mug.

She knew Lulu was only trying to be a good friend, but it was difficult to hear that when Elizabeth could only focus on the underlying statement; she didn't have a place to spend Christmas, and since she probably wouldn't spend it with Jason because everything was so fucked up, they would share the merry fucking holiday.

Oh, son of a bitch.

They were doing this for her.

The tree, the decorations, the shopping were all because of what had happened.

Would she really _not_ spend Christmas with Jason?

It was only a few days away, and they hadn't had much time to make any real plans with the gallery opening. They already knew that the old tradition was basically non-existent because Johnny was married and would be out of town, creating new traditions with his new family, which was a little sad, but neither Jason nor Elizabeth really cared. She was pretty sure they were both sepent on having a Christmas just like last year's, only they'd really be together and he'd appreciate her little Santa costume a lot more.

"Um, that sounds good," Elizabeth finally spoke up, realizing that Lulu was waiting on her to reply.

"Great," she exclaimed, relieved that the brunette was taking the offer. "I'm going to get ready. We can leave in an hour or so?"

"Sure," she muttered, holding her breath until the blonde was out of the room, finally turning her attention to Johnny. "Is she always fucking like this?"

"Elizabeth," he scolded, his lips turning up in a grin as he folded his paper and tossed it down on the table. "She just tries to take care of me, and now you. Sometimes she overcompensates a bit."

"I'd say," she replied, reaching over to take another piece of bacon. "No wonder you're so fat and happy all the time. It pays to have June CleaverBetty Crocker around."

"Watch it," he warned seriously, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Forgive me if I'm overly bitter about perfectly matched couples having eye sex over breakfast," she said, rolling her eyes.

"We were not," he argued, his cheeks flushing., Iand it would actually have been somewhat adorable to see Johnny so worked up over a woman, except that she hated cutesy relationship quirks more than anything at the moment.

She wanted to have cutesy relationship quirks – technically she did have them, but who the fuck was she kidding? Saying that she and Jason weren't breaking up, that they were going to figure this out _apart_ was the most ridiculous thing ever.

"You okay?" Johnny asked seriously, slipping his arm over the back of her chair and squeezing her gently by the shoulder.

"Is he okay?" she asked nervously, not sure if she wanted to know what exactly had happened the night before.

Jason was rarely hurt by the people in his life. T, and the only time that came to mind was after his accident, and…she couldn't think about returning to that again.

"Just as hungover as you are," O'Brien laughed, squeezing her shoulder again. She shrugged, dissatisfied with his answer. "And I'm pretty sure you two will be fine."

"He isn't mad?" she asked softly.

"He'll be too hungover to be mad," he replied, getting up from the table, his coffee cup in hand. "And if he's angry at anyone – it'll be at's himself for hurting you over a fucking dress."

Sighing, she slumped over the table and reached for another piece of bacon.

It was a lot more than a fucking dress.

It was her entire future in silk and beaded form – a future that her boyfriend/not-boyfriend didn't even want. And she knew Jason well enough to know that's why he was really hurting; he couldn't give her what she wanted or what she deserved because it wasn't what he wanted.

And that almost made her feel sorry _for him_.

God, she was such a stupid girl.

**********

Elizabeth never called.

Three days, too much beer, too many almost drunken dials, and a constant hangover later, she'd yet to call.

He wasn't stupid enough to think that she was going to leave and call him soon after, so he gave her a free pass on their first night apart, but after that…well, he just didn't understand it. He wasn't sure how typical relationships worked, and to be fair, if he told a woman he was going to call, he always did, even if it was just to say he'd had a nice time and he'd see her around. Unlike Johnny, he came through on his word, so if Elizabeth said she was going to call, she should fucking call.

Instead, she was off doing _stuff_, and he had no idea what that stuff was because every time he tried to find out, no one would tell him. He stopped by the gallery, and they said she'd called into work the past couple of days, which made him wonder if she was contemplating backing out of their business arrangement. He spent too much time hanging at Jake's in hopes that she'd show up, but Coleman said he hadn't seen her in weeks. And after pestering his best friend enough, Johnny said she'd been doing lots of Christmas planning with Lulu, which made no fucking sense because they weren't even going to be in Port Charles. He tried prying information out of Lulu, who said that it was best to give Elizabeth time, and that she'd talked to Jason when she was ready. He'd even fucking sent Ritchie out to hunt her down.

God, he was a fucking pansycoward.

Practically stalking – though in his defense, it wasn't because he couldn't seem to find her – his fucking girlfriend – was she still his girlfriend?

Sure, she'd said they weren't breaking up, and that she didn't want to hurt him, but….what the fuck did that mean? It wasn't a difficult decision.; Eeither they were together or not, either the FE was just the FE or it wasn't, and either they were either getting married or they weren't, and he couldn't figure any of this out because he couldn't find her.

Son of a bitch.

What if she realized that he wanted to marry her? That he had just overreacted over the stupid dress and was a bastard for lying about Carly, and that she didn't want anything to do with him.

And worst of all, what if she decided all this because she _didn't_ want to marry him anymore? And why did that very thought make his stomach hurt in ways that he didn't know was possible?

It was keeping him from getting out of bed, from going to work, and the only thing it seemed capable of doing was making him drink – a lot. His liquor cabinet was no longer fully stocked, and the entire state of New York was out of his favorite imported beer.

All because a fucking girl didn't call him.

Because she may or may not want to marry him.

Seriously.

When had he become a pansy ass fuck?

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he peered through his windshield at Johnny's house. Elizabeth's car wasn't in the driveway, and there didn't appear to be any lights on in the house.

Yes, unfortunately he had taken to sitting outside the house, his headlights turned off as he slumped over the steering wheel, in full blown stalker mode, but she hadn't give him much of a choice.

If she'd just picked up the damn phone and called, even if it was to say she hated him, this would be over. He would go back to the penthouse and pack the rest of her things, and, slowly but surely, rid himself of Elizabeth Webber.

Because despite what he had told her months ago, they would never go back from _this_.

They wouldn't be awkward friends who tried to stay amicable, and they would avoid Jake's and Kelly's and the docks, and most of the fucking town in order to stay away from each other. Or at least Jason would because God forbid she actually went out with someone else, and he had to see them.

He would hang the fucker up in the middle of town and make him forget he'd ever come to Port Charles.

Yeah, he'd become one of _those_ guys too.

Swearing under his breath, he fumbled for his cell phone, no longer caring if he came off as desperate or stupid. He couldn't face going back to the empty penthouse. All her things kept glaring at him, and every time he tried to go to bed, the stupid closet kept laughing so hard that it'd sendt him to the fucking guest bedroom. And then he'd remember that the guest bedroom was hers, and he'd try to sleep on the couch, but then he'd remember all the times they did things on the couch…

He really was a pansy ass fuck and probably had been ever since the first time she kissed him.

God.

Fucking Elizabeth Webber.

Swallowing hard, he dialed her number and held the phone to his ear, fighting the urge to slam the phone against the dashboard when it went straight to her voicemail. He couldn't help but smile at the familiar softness in her voice, his heart tightening at her tiny giggle before the beep.

Ah, shit.

Now he was one of those creepy people who breathed into the phone and didn't say a damn thing.

"Um, Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice ragged. "I, uh, I just…Son of a bitch, Elizabeth. Just call me. _Please_."

He snapped the phone closed and tossed it ontointo the passenger seat, pretending that very phone call hadn't just happened. His head jerked up when his phone vibrated in the seat, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this scared. He didn't bother to look at the caller ID, hoping that she would just tease him about being such a girl, and then explain that her car was in the shop and she dropped her phone in the toilet.

Hell, she could say she was abducted by aliens as long as she said she'd wanted to call him, but hadn't been able to.

"Hey."

"Took you long enough to answer. I've been trying to call you all fucking day."

O'Brien.

Of course, he couldn't get lucky.

Fucking karma or something.

"What?" he growled, slipping his key into the ignition as if afraid Johnny would know what exactly he was doing.

"What do you mean what? It's Christmas. I was just calling to say hey and shit. You know, make sure everything is-"

"I haven't talked to her," he interrupted, almost embarrassed to admit that he was failing at fixing this in every possible way.

But how the fuck could he fix this when she wouldn't call him?

"Are you serious?" O'Brien asked worriedly. He'd been hovering over Jason since the night Elizabeth left, and Jason knew it was because he was trying to be a good friend, especially since Elizabeth had Lulu, but it wasn't helping.

It was only a constant reminder that Elizabeth wasn't with him or speaking to him, and that she probably didn't want any of those things anymore. He'd been relieved when O'Brien finally left for the city because he was sure that Elizabeth would call then. Lulu wouldn't be distracting her, and she wouldn't have anyone to spend her time with, and she'd have to call Jason on Christmas and nag him into watching that stupid fucking movie that she'd already seen twenty fucking thousand times.

God.

He hated Christmas.

"She won't answer the phone. She hasn't gone into work. She's not at – not at your house," he rambled, no longer caring if he sounded like a stalking pansy ass fuck.

"Well, it's Christmas. Maybe she'll be at the Christmas party -, and she likes the eggnog almost as much as you," he offered, sounding anything but hopeful. "Or maybe she's just not…you know how she gets. She likes to hide when she's upset."

Hide.

And cry.

And clean.

And fester.

Jason knew what the fuck she was like, but that didn't help him at all.

"Do you know where she is?" Jason asked, willing to threaten lives, jobs, and whatever else it took to find her.

"Look, Jas-"

"Where the hell is she at?" he growled, tightening his hand around the phone.

"She asked me not – she told me she was going to spend Christmas alone, that she just wanted to be alone, and I'm not supposed to tell-"

"Johnny, I'm not fucking around. Where is-"

"Will you give me a break?" he interrupted angrily. "Why else would I call if I wasn't going to tell you where she was? I was hoping she'd break, that she'd give in and call, but…Look, you know where she is. Just think about it. I know you – you've been to the bar, the diner, work, and if you just look one more place..."

"That's not telling me where she is," he hissed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You _know_ where she is," he repeated, lowering his voice. "I have to go. Lulu's coming. Just stop being a stupid man, and go get Elizabeth, asshole."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Elizabeth was almost positive she was dying.

Her legs and arms hurt in places she didn't know could hurt, and her stomach was grumbling so loudly that there was no explanation except that it was eating itself – very, very slowly, and it was going to kill her in the process.

Groaning, she buried her face in the musty couch that sat in her studio, half debating on suffocating herself to end the pain faster. The quilt irritateditched her legs and arms, making her even hotter than she already was, but and she couldn't gather enough strength to kick it away.

Merry Fucking Christmas.

"Ehhh," she moaned, when someone knocked on the door of her studio, which roughly translated meantwas 'go the fuck away and leave me alone.'

Unfortunately, the person on the other side of the door either hadn't heard or didn't care, and she would make them pay at some point – _if_ she survived.

She started to lift her head when the door opened, but realized she didn't have the energy, so she just moaned incoherently again, figuring if it was an intruder they'd have pity on her sorry ass and go away. Or hell, they could take her scraps of canvas and paint supplies as long as they didn't come near her.

"Elizabeth."

Oh, God.

She cringed when she heard him drop his keys on the coffee table, the leather of his jacket rubbing together as he kneeled down beside the couch.

Of all the fucking people.

She should have known.

Johnny O'Brien was a dead man.

"Elizabeth, are you okay?" She started to nod, but decided against it because then he'd accuse her of lying, and she didn't have the energy to argue. Her lips parted in a soft sigh as his hand settled against her forehead. "You're burning up."

"Hmph," she grunted, her eyes fluttering open as his hand moved over her face.

The corner of his mouth hitched in a familiar smile that made her heart swell. "Hi." He didn't look angry or sad, mostly worried, and that almost made her fears go away, but she knew he was distracted by her appearance.

"Flu," she muttered raggedly, slowly rolling onto her back. "I think."

"How long have you been here?" he asked, gently combing his fingers through her hair.

"Yesterday?" She half shrugged, her body aching all over from the simple movement. He sighed as he got up from the floor and crossed the room, but she was too exhausted to watch him. "It's Christmas?"

"Yeah," he replied, and she smiled when she heard her mini-fridge open, knowingand knew he was getting her something to drink. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to skip it again."

"I hate it," she rasped, rolling her head towards him to find him settling back on the floor beside her, a hand unscrewing the lid from a bottle of water.

"You don't hate Christmas," he argued quietly, carefully slipping a hand beneath her head as he brought the bottle to her mouth.

She took a long sip, grimacing as she swallowed. "I'm not completely helpless, Morgan," she muttered, starting to sit up, only to give in halfway and lay back down.

He chuckled softly, and she couldn't understand why he was so unfazed by what had happened. Even if she was ill, looking after her was the last thing that Jason should have been doing. He should have been at the bar, passing out shots to his employees, and eyeing women to pull beneath the mistletoe. Not that she wanted him doing that – well, not the women at least, but it didn't feel righ, only not pulling them anywhere because he was too busy thinking about hert.

"Take another drink," he urged, letting her hold her head up on her own.

"I'm a mess," she muttered, easing herself up on her elbows and slowly sitting up, relieved when Jason slid his arm around her and moved to sit behind her on the couch. She hissed when the cool leather of his jacket touched her bare back, and she could tell from how quickly he pulled away that he was just as surprised by her bare skin. "I was hot."

"It's the fever," he replied, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the floor. He waited for her to ease back against him, settling into the crook of his arms, and she wanted to cry because it felt so good to be there, and she'd been thinking it was going to be a while before it ever happened again.

The last three days had been one mind-numbing like line after another. Constantly telling Johnny and Lulu she was fine, though she was well aware that they heard her crying herself to sleep at night. She hadn't felt this losts, this confused, since the time after Jason's accident, and though they were two completely different situations, they ended in relatively the same way – her losing someone she loved.

She tried playing possible scenarios over and over in her head, but they all ended the same way. She and Jason wanted two different things, and she wasn't sure if they could get past that. She didn't want to force him to marry her, and she didn't want to sacrifice what she wanted, but when it came down to it, did she want to marry someone that wasn't Jason?

It made her head and heart hurt, and she found it easier to avoid work and her friends as much as possible -, only her friends weren't as easy to get rid of. Lulu insisted on Elizabeth helping decorate for Christmas and every fucking Santa Clause and reindeer reminded her of Jason; of the holiday they weren't spending together.

"So you've been here since yesterday?" Jason asked, continuing to stroke the side of her face, carefully wiping away the sweat that had pooled on her forehead. She didn't know if it was from the fever or her nerves.

"I had to get out of there," she muttered, fumbling with the cap of the water bottle as she curled against Jason's side. "Stupid Christmas. Singing Santa's. Flashing rReindeers. God, it was awful."

He laughed again, the kind that was so faint and under his breath that you had to really listen for it, and it almost made her cry.

How could she miss someone this much?

"Don't you have singing Santa's and flashing reindeers?" he asked pointedly, running his other hand up and down her arm, causing her to shiver.

"You don't understand," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder, too exhausted to explain that Lulu O'Brien was the _real_ Christmas freak, and that Elizabeth had only been an imposter.

She had everything that a person could want for holiday decorating – and not only did she have it, but a lot of it was homemade. Her ornaments, her tablecloths, and the candy she put in her Christmas tree shaped dishes were all products of Susie Homemaker herself. Elizabeth now knew how to use a hot glue gun (without gluing her fingers together), stitch a table cloth, placements, and little doilies for the coffee table, and how to keep glitter from getting everywhere when making shiny, tin snowflake ornaments. She knew too fucking much about Christmas, and she never thought that would have been possible.

It was almost a relief to stand in the doorway and wave to Johnny and Lulu as they headed to the airport, but then she'd closed the door and for the first time in her entire life, Santa, Rudolph, the Abominable Snowman, Mrs. Clause, the Grinch, and Ebenezer mocked her in the most unimaginable of ways. They were everywhere; watching her movements, giggling from their place on the tree and mantle, constantly reminding her that she was alone.

And finally, she'd gotten so fed up that she got into her car and drove to her studio, determined to spend the holiday alone and miserable with the smell of spilled paint and musty furniture, only she'd woken up that morning feeling as if she were as going to die.

She probably would have if Jason hadn't shown upfound her, and she still wasn't sure how she felt about him finding her. Stupid Johnny, always fucking opening his mouth., and Hhe'd probably go on some rant about how this was in her best interest, and that they were acting like complete idiots.

Men.

Like they fucking know anything.

"Jason," she said quietly, tipping her head back to look up at him, her mouth going dry the second she looked him in the eye.

He swallowed hard, his lips turning in a tight frown. "I should probably get you some medicine, take you to John – home, or something."

His eyes were heavy, tired, strained, even, and she wondered when the last time was that he'd slept.

"It's Christmas," she murmured, her lip quivering as her eyes filled with tears.

"I know," he replied softly, sucking in a breath when a tear slid down her cheek. He lifted a hand to wipe it way, but stopped and let it fall to his lap. "Elizabeth…"

"I'm – I'm sorry," she whispered, hanging her head when she started to cry.

His arm tightened around her, pulling her against his side as he mumbled against her hair. "It's okay."

"No," she argued, lifting her head to look at him as she chewed her lip. "I – I didn't call, and I'm sorry."

"Elizabeth, it's-"

"I just…" she interrupted, nuzzling her face against his hand when he cupped her cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping away her tears. "I didn't know what to say."

"It's okay," he replied, carefully leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. She started to pull away, but he wouldn't let her, needing the touch as much as she wanted it. He mumbled something she couldn't understand against her mouth, pulling away to press his lips to her forehead. For this moment, what had happened didn't matter, and she was _almost_ sure that, despite how things turned out, they would be okay – they would be together. He mumbled something she couldn't understand against her mouth, pulling away to press his lips to her forehead. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she said, smiling when he gently placed his lips against hers again. "Jason…I'm sick…germy."

He grinned, quickly brushing his lips over hers one last time. "Yeah, well, I like germy."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, looking up from the coffee table as Elizabeth came out of the tiny bathroom in her studio. She'd been in there for the past twenty minutes, no doubt trying to make herself as presentable as possible after a long night of sweating out a fever, cougching, and throwing up.

"Like shit," she groaned, easing herself down on the edge of the couch. Slowly, she slid off the edge until she was on the floor beside him, and he couldn't resist slipping an arm around her. She tightened her fluffy, pink robe and curled against his side. "Thanks for sending Ritchie to get my stuff. I doubt his wife appreciated it though."

"It was an emergency," Jason replied, cringing at the thought of getting his friend into trouble on his favorite first Christmas with his wife.

He'd thought about leaving Elizabeth, but they seemed to silently agree that they couldn't leave the studio, that the very moment they left the room, what ease existed would disappear. They were walking on eggshells, pretending that the night at the e gallery hadn't happened, instead focusing on their first Christmas _together_, which should have been a celebration of sorts, instead of so fucking painful.

It wasn't like he had big plans for the holiday – just the usual hospital, Christmas Mass, Jake's bit, followed with a gift exchange that he'd been anticipating for months. And he may have secretly been looking forward to watching Elizabeth glue her fingers together again as they made paper chains.

"These aren't straight," she muttered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand before reaching for his jaggedly sliced pieces of construction paper.

He arched his eyebrow and handed her the scissors. "You think you can do better?"

"I don't even think I could hold them," she moaned, pressing her face into his chest as she slid her arm around his wastewaist. "Just know if you ruin my tree, I'll never forgive you."

Laughing, he looked up at the tiny tree setting in the center of the coffee table, not sure how he could make it worse than it already was. When he called Ritchie – his the first employee he could get a hold of – he asked him to pick up some clothes for Elizabeth, some Christmas decorations, and the tiniest tree he could find. Stupidly, he forgot about his friend's wife, but promised a wonderful Christmas bonus, enough to buy her lots of those damn diamonds she loved so much if he could do this for him. And apparently Ritchie was in the doghouse enough and came running at the mention of such a gift, and he'd more than come through.

Like so many people, Ritchie knew that Elizabeth loved small trees, paper chains, and homemade ornaments, so he made sure to get plenty of those things, which left Jason stuck with making putting them all together. And of course, Ms. Christmas Queen was going to nag him about it – not that he wasn't willing to take it at this point.

"You want to lie down?" he asked, brushing his lips against the top of her head.

"I'm fine," she replied tiredly, pulling back to look at him. "And if you so much as mention that fucking soup again, next time, I'll throw up on you."

"I wouldn't dare," he said, cracking a smile as he leaned down to brush his lips to hers. Apparently, the chicken noodle soup at Kelly's, once her favorite, had fallen off from it'sits glory.

"Germy," she muttered, wrinkling up her face as she pulled away.

"I like germy," he teased, smoothing his up and down her back, but didn't bother to press his luck. He could feel her resistance when he touched her, let alone kissed her, and he knew that despite how hard they were ignoring what had happened, it wasn't going to go anywhereaway. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his arm from around her, not sure if that's what she wanted, but he felt like he had to give her some kind of space.

"If you get sick," she warned, stopping as sheto coughed, "I am not taking care of you."

He chuckled as he glued the first paper chain in place, impatiently holding the ends of the strip of paper together as itthe glue dried. "I know, I know," he muttered, slipping another strip through the chain and gluing it. "You don't nurture."

"Well, don't make it sound like I'm terrible or something," she coughed, groaning as she shifted against his side. She nuzzled against his arm, watching quietly as she glued strip after strip, giggling when he fumbled and got glue all over his fingers. "I can't believe you did this."

"It's Christmas," he reminded her, rubbing his sticky fingers against his jeans.

This was precisely why she did the gluing and he watched.

Fucking Christmas.

"Yeah, but…" She sighed and tightened her arm around his waist as if he trying to pull him as close as possible.

"I missed you," he said quietly, narrowing his eyes at the paper chains as he continued to slip and glue one- by- one, relieved to have something to keep him busy. "And regardless of…I couldn't have imagined being without you today."

"Me either," she admitted, rubbing her cheek against his arm. She sniffled, and he didn't have to look at her to know she was crying. Neither of them wanted to start pulling apart what had happened, speaking the truths that would make or break them. They were stuck, and he was too terrified to make the first move. He stiffened as she sat up and wiped her face with the back of her hands, taking a deep breath as she reached for some of the construction paper. "I'll make the topper."

"Elizabeth…"

"It's Christmas," she reminded him, wiping at her cheeks again. "And really, I'm just glad that I get to spend it with you."

He nodded, grinning crookedly as he returned to his paper chains. When he was finished he peeked at her topper from the corner of his eye. "An angel," he muttered, continuing to grin as he remembered how she last year she explained that her mother always put an angel on top of the tree. _They watch over things._ "You know, I think this tree needs an angel."

"Oh, can it, Morgan," she laughed, smacking him on the arm as she sluggishly moved to her knees, stretching to place slip the angel on top as Jason gently placed the long, paper chain on the branches. "It's almost perfect."

Rolling his eyes, he scooted out from beneath the coffee table and walked to the other side, stooping down to plug in the cord to the lights. Elizabeth's face lit up the second the tree illuminated, and there was no doubt this was the kind of Christmas she wanted.

"It's probably the best tree ever," she muttered, lifting herself onto the couch and tugging the blanket over her lap. "All because of the angel."

"Right," he muttered, walking over to the counter and digging through the other bags that Ritchie had brought along. "Well, I think I can top the tree."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes widening as he turned around with a couple wrapped packages in his arms. "Presents? Jason, when did you-"

"Ritchie picked them up from the penthouse," he interrupted, walking over and carefully sliding them beneath the tree before taking his seat beside her. "And there was one that Johnny gave me to give to you from Lulu."

She smirked, laughing to herself as she realized that their best friends had known this was precisely how they were going to end up. "But your gift – I don't-"

"You underestimate me, Webber," he muttered, leaning forward and sliding a wide box out from beneath the coffee table. "It came in the mail a few days ago."

"Did you look?" she asked, closely inspecting the box after he handed it to her, sure that he had peeked.

"No," he replied, looking away with a grin. He wasn't about to explain to her that he had tried, that – that he had actually opened the box, only to find the contents of it in another one, and he'd given gave up because it just didn't seem fair to open it without her.

And also, he knew she would kill him.

"Liar," she said, pointing to the exact spot that he had carefully opened the box. "And don't you dare try to say it came from the packaging."

"To be fair, it was addressed to me," he pointed out, leaning back against the cushions and draping his arm over the back of her couch.

"But it says from Elizabeth right here," she reminded him, pointing at the tag. She chewed her lip as she stared at him. "Did you peek? Because if you did, it's ruined and-"

"I tried, but I failed, okay?" he interrupted, holding up his hands in defeat. "And I knew I would never live it down."

"Damn right you wouldn't," she replied, yawning as she thrust the box into his lap, and he just looked at her. "Come on, Morgan. I just gave you a gift. You're supposed to open it."

"You don't want yours first?" he asked, knowing that she disliked surprisesd as much as he did.

She shrugged and nudged the box with the back of her hand. "I'm really excited about this, even though you'll probably think it's dumb," she said seriously, shoving her curls out of her face. "Stop being a girl and open it."

"Okay," he replied, gently prying the lid off the box. After his initial breaking and entering he hadn't bothered trying to tape it closed again. He grabbed the scissors from the coffee table and slid them through the packaging tape of the box that was inside and groaned when he saw yet another package, this one wrapped. "Elizabeth…"

"It's Christmas," she pouted, leaning against his arm. "This is the best part. Besides, I knew you would peek."

"Brat," he muttered, slowly pulling at the paper much to her dismay, and the more she grumbled at his side, the slower he went, until finally she reached over and jerked the paper away. He arched his eyebrows as he pulled a thick, heavy photo album from the box, and Elizabeth reached beneath it to shove the other boxes away so he could rest it on his thighs.

"Well…" she whispered, nibbling her lip as he opened it and quickly fanned through the pages, surprised to find every photograph, every postcard, every tangible slip of paper from the time he spent travelling.

"A scrapbook," he muttered, his lips curving into a smile. "How did you-"

"Get all this crap together?" she interrupted, shaking her head. "It was easy. You had boxes and boxes lying around the penthouse, and I was always knocking them over. I opened a closet and, one would fall on my head, so I just decided to do something about it."

"I found this really great place in Manhattan that binds things – one of those silly little private shops that not many people use because they charge a bundle, and I just realized it was perfect for you," she rambled, pausing every so often to cough or clear her throat. "This is only the first one. There will be a total of four, but she couldn't get them all done by Christmas." She reached over and opened the album. "And they're in order because it's not like you haven't told me the damn stories a thousand times, and I know it's sort of cliché and silly, but it gets them out of your way and mine and-"

"Elizabeth, I love it," he interrupted, easing his arm around her and brushing his lips against hers. For once, she didn't pull away or remind him that she was sick. "It's absolutely perfect."

"Really?" she asked, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Because you aren't the easiest person to buy for. I already get you suits and dinner and travel books and sheets, and what the hell else do you get someone who has everything? Or someone who doesn't want itanything?"

He laughed, kissing her again. "This is the most you've talked all day."

Shrugging, she leaned against him. "Well, I always say Christmas can csure almost anything."

She did, and for once, he wanted to believe it was true. That this could be the start of them again, letting go of what had happened and that in the next week, he'd have Elizabeth beside him in bed as he bored her with the details of his travels yet again, this time with organized visuals.

And she would secretly love it.

"Alright, put the book away," she croaked, her voice growing hoarse from the coughing. "My turn."

"You're like a child," he laughed, easing the album back into the box and reaching for the slender, horribly wrapped box.

"What did you expect, peeker?" she asked, laughing as he handed her the gift. "Did you wrap this? Oh, god. You did."

He had, but he wasn't going to admit how hard it was to cut paper into a square, then fold it, all while taping it together. It was one of the most confusing things he'd ever done, and he regretted not having Lulu do it or taking it to the mall and standing in the insanely long gift wrapping lineslines for gift wrap.

"It's like a work of art," she teased, clearly touched by the fact that he had actually done such a thing. Unlike Jason, she didn't take her time and had the paper ripped to shreds in seconds, wasting no time as she tore at the lid of the box, and sucked in a breath as she looked at what was nestled inside. "Plane tickets?"

"Yeah," he grunted nervously, worried that such a gift at this point was going to be too extravagant.

"To…Italy," she murmured, lifting her eyes to his. "Jason…"

"They'reere for the spring," he shrugged, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "You can change them and use them whenever you want, and you don't even have to go with me. I just know that it's something you've always wanted and…"

"I can't go to Italy without you," she said, sniffling as she tucked the tickets back into the box and slipped the lid over it. "You're the only one…I couldn't imagine seeing it without you." She sighed, her hands tightening around the box as she leaned back against the couch.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, grabbing Lulu's gift off the table, desperate for some kind of distraction. "I know it's a lot right now, but…I didn't know when or _if_ I'd be able to give it to you some other time."

"No, it's perfect," she replied, placing her arm on his. "Everything about today…even the flu. It's probably been the best Christmas I've ever had, but it doesn't change…"

"What happened," he filled in thickly, picking at the bow on the present.

Against his better judgment, he tore at the wrapping, his breath hitching when he realized Lulu and Johnny had given them a framed photograph from their wedding. One of Jason and Elizabeth laughing on the dance floor just moments after the F.E. had started; Elizabeth's mouth was opened wide, and Jason was hiding his grin in her hair.

Clearly, subtlety wasn't either Lulu or Johnny's thing.

"There's so much that I want to tell you, Elizabeth." He wasn't sure if she saw the photograph, but sShe cleared her throat and dropped her hand from his arm, waiting quietly. "I just don't know how."

"I think everything's been said," she muttered, wiping a tear from her eye before it could slip down her cheek. "I want something that you don't, and I can't ask you to sacrifice that, Jason."

"What if – what if I changed my mind?" he asked, tipping his head towards her. "What if this time apart…"

"Oh, Jason," she muttered, sitting up beside him and scrubbing her hands over her face. "I knew this would happen – that would think you want this, and just because you don't doesn't mean that I'm going anywhere."

"Elizabeth, I do-"

"We moved too fast," she said firmly, repeating what she had said before she moved out. "We didn't let ourselves adjust. It was just one thing after the other, and I may want to get married, but who says I'm ready?" She shook her head, still clutching the plane tickets in one hand as if they were some kind of promise. "I told you that I wanted to marry you before I said I love you, before you said it to me."

"Because you already knew," he shrugged, his heart swelling despite having known how she felt about him or vice versa.

It just wasn't something that required words.

"I did – I do," she corrected, smiling through her tear-filled eyes. "I just didn't know how to say it, but I knew that you-"

"I love you," he interrupted softly, hoping that all either of them needed was for the other one to say it first.

"I love you too," she replied, slipping her arm through his and leaning against him. "I always will."

He shifted to kiss her forehead, the bridge of her nose, settling on her mouth, and he pulled away, swallowing hard. "Where does that leave us?"

"I don't know," she shrugged sadly, pulling her lip between her teeth. "I would never make you do something that you didn't want to, Jason, even if it was for me. And before you try to argue, this is a lot different than wearing a tux or eating a salad every once in a while….For me, what it comes down to is that if I can't marry you, then fine, because I don't want be with anyone else."

"And what if," he challenged, nuzzling the side of her face, "I want to marry you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Wait, let me get this straight," Johnny laughed, leaning back on Jason's couch and propping his feet on the coffee table. It was a habit that drove Jason completely insane, and surely a habit something his wife should have broken by now. "You proposed while she had the flu?"

"It wasn't like that," Jason muttered, taking a sip of his beer as he paced back and forth behind the couch, refusing to look at his friend who was no doubt wearing a smirk that would last weeks.

"She tells you she loves you-"

"I didn't exactly say that," he interrupted sternly, not wanting what he had said to get back to Elizabeth in any way.

And knowing Johnny O'Brien's stupid ass, it would.

Not that he said much – just that they spent Christmas together at the studio, talked about how they really felt, and Jason admitted he wanted to marry her.

"After which she threw up on you?" O'Brien laughed, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer.

"She had the flu," he pointed out, rubbing a hand over his face and reminding himself that love was letting someone throw up on you, and not being upset about it.

Or something close to it.

"You fucking proposed and she threw up on you," he repeated it, chuckling as he looked over his shoulder with that fucking smirk. "Why the fuck would you propose when she had the flu?"

"I didn't propose," he hissed, tightening his hands around his beer bottle because that was better than O'Brien's throat. "She said she would be okay if we didn't get married, and I said, well what if I want to marry you and-"

"She threw up," he cut in gleefully, slapping his knee.

"Johnny," he warned, stepping up behind him.

"Okay, I'll let go of the throw up incident for now," he apologized, slightly turning around so that he could look at Jason, but not enough so that his feet left the coffee table. "I just want you to think about this. You told Elizabeth you wanted to marry her when she felt like shit, when her temperate was like a hundred and two, and after you'd forced her to eat the fucking chicken noodle soup from Kelly's – am I correct? Just nod."

Rolling his eyes, Jason nodded.

"You told a sick girl that you wanted to marry her. Were you trying to cure the common cold?" he asked, ducking when Jason reached out to smack him. "Let's just hope that she was so delusional from the fever that she doesn't remember this." He ducked again. "Either she'll forget or she was giving you her answer telling no by barfing all over you, and if not, she's probably really embarrassed and thinks you'll never want to marry her now."

Fuck.

Jason was a complete and utter moron.

"She was sick," he defended, his shoulders slumping. "We were talking, and I wanted her to know the truth, and I didn't know what to say…You proposed to Lulu by accident in the middle of a fucking restaurant, so don't you-"

"It was a classy restaurant with my friends there, and she didn't throw up on me," he reminded him smugly.

"Well…it was her studio, and she likes that place – oh, what the fuck ever, Johnny. I didn't even propose," he growled, gritting his teeth.

Son of a fucking bitch.

What was he supposed to do now?

There was no way in hell he wanted her to forget, unless she was so mortified by what had happened, but that meant going through the entire fucking ordeal all over again.

God, he hated her.

Well, he hated the flu.

And the projectile vomiting that came along with it.

Or maybe it was the fucking soup.

"God dammit," he muttered, leaning against the back of the couch. As if things weren't complicated enough, Jason had to make them worse. Stupid engagement with the stupid – okay not really – girl, and now the stupid fucked up proposal. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Hell if I know," Johnny replied, taking another drink of his beer. "Ow – what the fuck?" He jumped up from the couch when Jason smacked him in the back of the head. "Dude, come on."

Jason just glared at him. "Keep your feet off my coffee table, asshole."

**********

"It was the most embarrassing moment of my life," Elizabeth moaned, hugging her knees to her chest as Lulu sat down on the bed in front of her. "I threw up all over him, all over your Christmas present."

"Ouch," Lulu grimaced, smoothing her hand over the down comforter in her guest – currently Elizabeth's – bedroom.

"He probably thinks it was some gut reaction to him telling me he wanted to marry me," she muttered, rubbing her chin against the top of her knee.

"Well, I doubt that's the case because he knows you want to marry him," she reminded her, grinning widely. "You were sick, Elizabeth. I doubt Jason is going to hold it against you."

"It was _disgusting_," she stressed, her stomach churning at the mere thought of what had happened. "I'm not exaggerating when I say it was _everywhere_."

"I've always thought there was something off with the food at that diner," Lulu muttered, clucking her tongue. "John knows that I dislike eating a place where most of the food is fried. You never know what they are dropping in the grease in the back."

"I think it was mostly my nerves," she defended, knowing this was not the time to engage in an argument over why diner food was better than any of the fancy shit Lulu was always serving.

Okay, sometimes Lulu's food was better, but that wasn't the point right now.

"I was so stressed out about Jason and our situation. I practically ran away from him because I thought he was going to run away from me," Elizabeth continued, nibbling her lip. "I know I was only away from him for – what? A week? – but I wasn't taking care of myself, and I probably made myself sick in the process, and then he was there…God, he told me he wants to marry mee I wanted to marry him, and I barfed on him."

"Now you can say he's seen you at your best and your worst," she teased, giving her a warm smile that failed to relax her friend even the tiniest bit. "Okay, I have a confession."

She couldn't help but perk up because Lulu's confessions were always secretly hysterical. Like buying a pair of boots and telling Johnny they were on clearance when they weren't or having to buy a cake from the bakery and pretend she made it because time ran out for a party. Silly little things that Elizabeth would have never cared to lie about.

"Shoot," she muttered, picking at the worn knee of her sweatpants.

"When I first met John – after that awful dinner with my parents," she started, her cheeks already turning pink with embarrassment. "I actually allowed him to take me out one night. Or rather, he invited himself out with my friends. And he sort of challenged me to drinking, and I know it was really stupid because I hated him at that moment, but I did it – shot after shot, and oh, it was so ridiculous. Like I could really impress him by drinking?"

Elizabeth didn't say a word because she couldn't count how many men had been impressed with her ability to drink a glass of beer in five seconds or do shot after shot of tequila without throwing up.

"I got so incredibly sick," she continued, shaking her head in disgust. "I vomited everywhere – all over myself and John, and…he didn't even care. He just took care of me, which was really strange because I wasn't used to that kind of attention."

She couldn't help but smile because Johnny wasn't used to giving it, which was why she secretly enjoyed Lulu's stories. Not only were they silly and made Elizabeth wonder what the poor girl was so worried about, but it was fun to see Johnny through his wife's eyes. There was a time when Elizabeth was so sure that she knew Jason and Johnny better than anyone else in the entire world, but there was another side of him that she'd never reached, and Lulu did.

"He said something silly then – about how true love means you can throw up on someone and they won't care because they still love you," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I barely even knew him then, and I all but banished him from my life days later…"

"And now you're married," Elizabeth filled in, resting her chin on her knee.

"Exactly," Lulu shrugged, still smoothing out the blanket. "It may not be the most natural progression, but it seems to work for our men."

"Yeah," she agreed, laughing to herself as she thought about how Jason had taken care of her. He didn't even cringe when she started to get sick, worrying only about holding her hair back and comforting her. In retrospect, it was probably stupid of her to demand that he take her home so she could get some rest.

Fuck, she probably ruined Christmas.

"Oh, hell," she groaned, slumping back against the head board, her legs falling down in front of her. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Lulu cringed as she got up from the bed. "I have no idea."

**********

Jason had never been so nervous in his entire life. Even when he was searching Elizabeth out while they were apart, he wasn't this anxious or desperate to know what was going to happen. He could usually predict her reactions and decisions based on every other choice she'd made her in her life, but this was different.

This was more fucking complicated than either of them ever imagined.

And sadly, he was starting to wonder if that's why they liked – why it fit so damn well.

They sort of lived their lives by the book; following their careers and decisions, allowing them to define their paths that defined them, and their relationship had been so out of the ordinary that it gave them something to look forward to. It may have mattered before that they hadn't dated – hadn't ever gone to dinner and a movie. Hell, on a good day they couldn't make it through dinner without keeping their hands off one another, so they would definitely be kicked out of a theater.

And that was only because Elizabeth couldn't keep quiet if her life depended on it.

But that wasn't the point right now.

The point was that they weren't supposed to fit into the general consensus for relationships. They were who they were and they worked out well because of that, but if that's what Elizabeth wanted, then he was going to give it to her.

Because that seemed to be the only way to convince her that he was in this for the long haul, that he wanted to marry her, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

Of course, telling her that was going to be absolutely terrifying.

Stupid woman.

Turning him into a fucking boy.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the cracked door of the guest bedroom at Johnny's, hoping that his friends had actually gone out to dinner like they said, and weren't hovering at the foot of the fucking stairs.

"Come in," he heard her call out softly, and he couldn't help but smile when he pushed the door open and saw her sitting in the center of the bed, her sketchbook in hand. "Hey."

"Hey," she sighed, dropping the sketchbook and smoothing her hands over he knees. "It's been…a couple days."

"Yeah," he nodded, clearing his throat as he walked over to her bed.

He started to sit down on the bed, but stopped, wondering if he could because, technically, it wasn't his bed – not something that they shared.

Fuck, this was so confusing.

"Sit down," she murmured, clearing the space in front of her. "I promise I won't throw up on you."

He laughed uncomfortably as he sat down, the mattress shifting under his weight. "It's okay if you do," he replied, relieved when she laughed with him. "So…how are you feeling? I know you said you wanted to rest a couple of days…"

"I'm better, still a little exhausted. I don't think I had the flu – just some bug or something," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Thank you for taking care of me. I hope I didn't ruin Christmas."

"Ruin?" he asked, shaking his head as he reached for her hand, relieved when she met him half way. "I think it was my favorite so far."

"It was certainly memorable," she added, linking their fingers together. "I know we have to talk. I just…"

"You don't have to say anything," he said, swallowing hard. "I just came here to tell you that I want to give you what you wanted – what you asked for." Her eyes softened as she looked at him. "I want to give you time...apart, even if I can't stand it. And I want to take you on dates." He chuckled when he realized how awkward the sentence sounded on his tongue. "And I want to make this comfortable for you because…well, eventually, Webber, I do want to marry you."

"Jason," she whispered, squeezing his hand, her eyes looking so similar to the way they had in the studio.

Only not so terrified, , like maybe she believed him.

"I'm not – not asking you _now_," he said firmly, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I just want you to know that when you're ready – when I'm ready…" He took a deep breath and rolled his head from side to side. "You want to say something here?"

"Thank you," she murmured, lifting a hand to his face and drawing his mouth to hers. "For understanding. And for not giving up on me. And for being incredibly patient. I guess the list is really endless." She kissed him against, her mouth lingering longer this time, and grinned as she pulled back. "Now, tell me more about this dating business."

"Well, I was thinking dinner-"

"No movie," she chimed in, wrinkling her face. "Me, you, dark places-"

"I already thought of that," he cut in, shaking his head at her. "So I was thinking dinner…for New Year's…some drinks…at a public place-"

"Like that would stop us."

"Elizabeth," he scolded.

"What? So basically you want to take me out and get me drunk?" she asked, arching her eyebrow so that, and he couldn't tell if she was upset or not. "How exactly is this different from every other time we go to dinner?"

"Well, I guess it's…"

Fuck, now he was failing at this dating business too.

This was all Johnny's fault.

"I'm kidding. I wouldn't want things any other way," she laughed, kissing him again. "Think of it this way =, if you're lucky, you'll get more than a kiss at a midnight."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"If she asks me why I don't make New Year's resolutions one more time, I will break my champagne flute against the table and stick it in her eye," Elizabeth hissed, stumbling as Jason suddenly pulled her towards the dance floor, his arm snaking around her waist and securingpulling her against him.

"Then we should probably avoid the table," he murmured, grinning crookedly as she settled in his arms, her hands smoothing over his shoulders as she pressed against him.

"You hate dancing," she teased, stretching to brush her lips over the corner of his mouth, his hands smoothing over the curves of her hips, before settling one at the small of her back.

"I hate dancing in public," he corrected, skimming a hand so gently over her bare back that she shivered, pressing harder against him, which was just what he wanted. He dropped his head, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear. "I like dancing with you."

"Good answer, Morgan," she whispered breathily, her fingers curling into the collar of his suit, letting him know she was just as affected by all of this as he was.

God, they hadn't been this close in weeks.

Well, they had, but then she'd thrown up on him, so that didn't really count. And when he'd gone to see her at Johnny and Lulu's, his friends had interrupted when they returned from what had been a very brief dinner, so there had been no time for _this_.

He really missed just having her in his arms, and she was tormenting him in all sorts of ways with the dress she was wearing, making it impossible to focus on anything except the possibility of touching her. Her breath hitched as he slid a finger beneath the spaghetti strap of the black, silk dress, and under normal circumstances that was all it would have taken for him to find a quiet, private spot or a way out so they could be alone.

"So," he muttered, his breath hot against her ear as they swayed, "why don't you make New Year's resolutions?"

Instantly, her head fell back from his shoulder, her lips parting as the softest, most gentle laugh came from her lips. "I hate you so much."

"It was just a question," he shrugged, when she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"You really want me to answer this?" she asked, letting out a sigh as he ran his hand up her back, settling it against her neck, beneath her dark silky curls.

"You wouldn't answer Lulu," he replied, smirking when her eyes darkened as he gently tugged at her hair.

This was almost as fun as not having sex, and she totally deserved it after running her hand up and down his thigh during dinner, sitting proudly when she felt how turned on he was.

"I…don't...like them," she whispered, her lashes fluttering. "They're just…will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" he asked, slowly untangling his hand and smoothing it down her back to rest with the other.

"You're not funny," she scolded roughly, taking a deep breath.

"Payback, Webber," he muttered, pressing his hands into the small of her back and arching her against him. "Now answer the question."

"I don't like them, probably because I'm not good at keeping them," she said seriously, slipping her hands around to the back of Jason's neck, slowly raking her nails through the hair at the back of his head. "Mine would be stupid anyway – spend less money, be nicer to Lulu – all things that I would break by twelve thirty, so why bother?"

"Yeah," he sighed, hanging his head as she continued to rake her fingers through his hair, each tug rougher than the one before.

So now she was playing too.

Thank God.

He hadn't had sex in entirely too long, and he wasn't sure how that was going to work now that things were being taken _slow_. When they lived together they had sex almost every day – sometimes twice – and if they were off work, they usually spent the whole day in bed together. So this was…difficult, especially when he needed to have her.

God, he was such a fucking pervert.

But in his defense, she'd knoewn exactly what she was doing when she put on that dress, revealing and covering so much skin at the same time, topping it off with a pair of strappy heels that really belonged in the bedroom.

Jason was pretty sure that if Johnny and Lulu hadn't hijacked their _date_ because O'Brien was too much of a fucking idiot to make his own plans, he and Elizabeth would have already disappeared somewhere, setting off their own fireworks way before midnight.

Fucking O'Brien.

He ruined everything.

Of course, Jason had pointed this out, causingand Johnny started to pout, saying that they always made plans like this together, so naturally he'd assumed they'd all be going out for New Year's together. Before Jason could slug him, Elizabeth stepped in and insisted it was fine, but he could tell she was a little letdown about their _first_ date being a double.

Thankfully the night had gone rather smoothly, except Lulu havingd had too much champagne and kept badgering Elizabeth about her resolutions because she was too drunk to remember that Elizabeth had already said she didn't make them.

Maybe sneaking Elizabeth off for sex was actually a good idea.

He tried to find something that would make up for their botched plans only to settle on the Metro Court New Year's Party, which wasn't as exciting of a date as he imagined it should have been, but he knew he'd have other chances to make it up.

Maybe.

What if it sucked so bad that Elizabeth didn't want to date him?

Seriously.

Dating blew.

The only good thing about it was the alcohol.

And the foreplay, which better end in sex.

Or else.

"You're grinning like an idiot," Elizabeth said, poking him in the ribs as she started to ease out of his arms, only to realize that but his hands held her firmly in place. "Jason, the song's over."

"Hmph," he grunted, ignoring the people around them who were making their way off the dance floor as the band announced their break.

Frowning, she narrowed her eyes at him. "It's not even midnight."

Oh, hell.

He was going to fuck up getting laid too.

"I just wanted…to be alone with you," he murmured, relieved when her lips curved upward.

"Oh, you're good, Morgan," she laughed, pulling his arms from around her waist and tugging him off the dance floor. "Too good."

He rolled his eyes when he realized he'd gotten nowhere, allowing her to slip her arm through his and steer him towards their table where Johnny and Lulu were as close to one another as their seats would allow.

Apparently champagne made Mrs. O'Brien very frisky.

Ew.

Johnny and Lulu.

Ha.

He'd have to let Elizabeth in on that visual later on.

After they had sex.

Wait.

Okay, so that wasn't a good idea at all.

His lips curled in disgust as he sat down across from them, vaguely aware that Elizabeth hadn't saet down, that and suddenly she was behind him, her hands smoothing over his shoulders and down his chest as she slipped something in his pocket.

"Penthouse Suite 2."

He cleared his throat as he tipped his head towards her, and she quickly brushed her lips against his and backed away.

"Ten minutes, Morgan."

Ha.

She was a pervert too.

**********

Elizabeth was so completely ashamed of herself, and sadly, liquor could not be blamed. She'd been so well behaved the entire night, sipping only a little champagne at a time – no thanks to Lulu who was just downing it like it was the last drink she was ever going to have, but that was beside the point.

A good girl didn't get sloshed on the first date – at least she didn't,. No, she always saveding it for the fourth or fifth, or even later when she was pretty sure she was going to sleep with the guy, but needed something to ease her nerves.

Ha.

She was such a stupid tramp.

And so was Jason.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her when he picked her up in a brand new suit – one that she hadn't picked out – and had also put on a tie. Normally, men in dress clothes did something to her, but Jason Morgan in dress clothes was just…

There were no words.

Or maybe she was just that horny.

She sucked in a breath, her head snapping towards the door when she heard him fumbling with the keycard, just asand she started to get nervous in that bad, sweaty palm way.

Son of a bitch.

She was such a stupid girl.

"Hey."

Her cheeks flushed as she turned away from the window, the only light in the room in streaming in from the moon, and she almost couldn't breathe when he kicked the door closed and walked over to her.

"Hey," she replied, nibbling her lip and silently scolding herself for not doing something incredibly sexy and funny, like being naked when he walked in the room.

Had he expected that?

Probably not.

He always seemed to enjoy undressing her.

Oh, hell.

He probably thought she was going to be primed and ready.

This seduction stuff was so fucking confusing.

"So," he murmured, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. "How did you get a room on New Year's?"

"I know people," she replied, rolling her head to the side as he ran his fingers up her arm and across her neck, stopping to cup her cheek.

"Don't remind me," he muttered, grimacing at the thought of one of her former boyfriends – the very owner of this hotel.

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, swallowing hard as he slowly lowered his mouth to hersis, still confused as to why she was so damn nervous about this.

It wasn't as if they hadn't had sex before – in lots of places and positions.

"Mmm," she moaned softly, his tongue snaking across her slips, seeking access to her mouth, and he groaned his own approval when theyher lips parted, and she met him eagerly.

She fisted her hands in his lapels as he steered them towards the bed, their mouths never parting, and she wasn't aware that she was off the ground until Jason laid her down in the center of the mattress. He braced himself above her on one hand while the other gently shoved her curls away from her face, his thumb tracing her lower lip before he kissed her again. His mouth was so soft and gentle, his hands seeming almostas delicate as they roamed over her bare skin, inching the silk up her thighs as much as possible.

Elizabeth felt as if she were coming apart at the seams, like every touch was reaching a place she didn't know existed, and though he was pulling her apart, he was easing her back together just as quickly.

"I have," he whispered, after slippingeasing the straps of her dress over her shoulders and carefully maneuvering the dress to her waist, "missed you so much, Elizabeth."

She grinned softly, peering up at him with half slit eyes as she raised her hips so he could toss the flimsy silk to the floor. Stretching, she raised her hands above her head, letting her legs part against the mattress, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over her naked body.

Except for the shoes, of course.

She'd known from the very second she put them on that Jason wasn't going to take them off.

"You just miss the sex," she replied, closing her eyes as his hands started at her thighs, his fingers dancing a delicate rhythm across her skin.

He teased her between her legs, coming close to where she wanted to be touched, but abandoning it the very moment she started to beg. His fingers pressed against her hips, skimmed over her sides, stopping to cup her breasts;, he watcheding her as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, smirking at how quickly they hardened.

"No," he corrected, his hands cradling her face as he lowered his mouth to hers. "I've missed _you_."

Jason had always been a gentle lover, one with just the right amount of roughness and desire. He liked to take his time when he had it, butand he had no problem hurrying things up and getting them done either. She assumed that was why their sex life had been so exciting; she never knew what to expect - whether he was rolling her over in the morning or coming to meet her on their lunch breaks.

But _this_ - this was different.

"I've missed you too," she whispered against his mouth, breathless from how hard he'd kissed her.

His mouth found hers again, craving the taste and not wanting to let it go for longer than he had to, his hands continuing to roam across her skin until she was tearing her mouth away and begging him to really touch her.

"Jason, please," she panted, curling her fingers into his suit jacket. "God, you're still dressed."

"I've been too busy undressing you, Webber," he teased, slowly moving his mouth away from hers, tracing an intricate path across her neck and down her chest.

She lifted her head to scold him, but saw that somewhere along the way he'd lost his suit jacket and hadwas started to undo the buttons onto his shirt. She started to help, but he batted heris hands away, his mouth still moving across her skin, stopping long enough to nuzzle the curve of her breast, and draw the delicate peak into his mouth. Her back arched up from the bed, and she scowled in frustration when his mouth moved away, swearing when the weight of his body disappeared.

"I swear to…" She trailed off when she lifted her head and saw him standing at the foot of the bed, smirking as he tugged his belt through the loops and undid the buttonsnaps of his dress pants.

"You were saying?" he asked, resting his hands at his waist, watching as she and she couldn't stop herself from movedving to her knees and crawleding towards the foot of the bed.

She grinned when his eyes darkened as she settled on her knees, reaching out shove to shove his pants down. Licking her lips, she smoothed her hands over his chest and waist, gently tugging him forward as she stretched to kiss him, and lightly stroked him with the tip of her finger. She wasn't surprised when he fisted his hand in her hair, his teeth nipping her lip as she lowered back against the mattress.

He disappeared again, and she laughed as he fumbled for his wallet, finally settling over her with the foil package tucked safely in his fist. He braced his hands on either side of her head and nudged her legs apart with his knee – not that he really had to do much nudging, but she figured she'd let him work for some of it.

"Elizabeth," he groaned, when she carefully lifted one of her legs, settling her heel against his calf and dragging it along the back of his leg.

She arched an innocent eyebrow innocently as she ran her hands up and down his arms, fighting the urge to liftarch her hips and force him into her. Not to be out done by the repeated motion of her heel against his leg, he slipped a hand between her legs, lightly grazing her with the tip of a slender finger, causing her to lose all suddenly she couldn't fight the urge any longer.

Grinning, she skimmed her hand down his arm to his fist, and he didn't fight her when she pulled his fingers apart and slipped the foil package from his hand. "Roll over, Mor – Oh!" she gasped, when he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she was now on top. "Hmm…" She wiggled her hips as she pressed against him, moaning with the surge of need that rushed through her.

To hell with it.

She could tease him mercilessly later on.

His hands gently squeezed her hips as she tore the foil open and tossed it aside, praying that he'd brought more than one or else they were going to have a lot of problems. In what was to be one quick motion, she eased herself off of him, rolleding the protection into place, and just as she prepared to give them both what they wanted most, Jason sat up on one arm and slipped the other around her to hold her in place. She started to fight him, but he kissed her so soundly that she lost all train of thought, need, and desire for five entire seconds, and when he pulled away, she was so damn dizzy, she didn't know if she'd be able to move.

He nuzzled his cheek against hers, hiser fingers digging into her hips as he nipped her earlobe. "I love you," he whispered quietly, so quietly that she was almost sure she imagined it, but then… "I love you so much."

Her breath hitched as he nipped her earlobe again, and she swallowed hard, torn between pulling away to look at him and just taking what she wanted.

Oh, man.

He was turning her into such a freaking girl.

"Mmm," she murmured, brushing her lips over his cheekbone, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. "I love you too."

The words had barely left her mouth before he was lifting her onto him, and she gasped as she stretched around him, her eyes fluttering closed as he fell back against the mattress, pulling her with him. He kissed her again – another one of those damn kisses that stopped all incoherent thought -, and then he was rolling her over, pinning her against the mattress as he pulled out and slowly plunged back in.

It didn't take long to see the sparks in front of her eyes, the sound of her own cries surprising her as she came apart in his arms. Instead of moving away, he shifted his weight over her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her again.

"Jason," she panted, rolling her head to the side as the room suddenly lit up with an array of bright colors, booms erupting from the sky as loud cheering burst throughout the hotel.

He grumbled against her hair, not bothering to lift his head and look at the fireworks. "Happy New Year, Webber."

**********

"Stop looking at me like that," Jason growled, pressing his face into his pillow when Elizabeth rolled onto her side and curled against him. She laughed when he let out a low hiss as she skimmed her hand over his back and raked her heel against his calf. "You're trying to kill me."

"What good would that do me?" she asked, yawning as she rested her chin on his arm that was stuffed halfway beneath his pillow. "Face it, Morgan. You're only worth something to me if you're alive."

"Good to know," he replied, grinning crookedly as she brushed her lips over his arm, her eyes fluttering closed.

She looked so damn beautifully exhausted that it was almost enough motivation for him to roll over and take her for the fourth time, but he didn't. He just sat there and stared at her face; taking in the blush of her cheeks and the plumpness of her bruised lips.

To think, he almost didn't want to marry her.

Ha.

He was a fucking idiot.

"Now you're looking at me all weird," she muttered, yawning again as her lashes parted. "What gives, Morgan? What's got you going all boy on me?"

"Shut up," he grunted, chuckling into his pillow as she stretched to kiss his cheek.

Her lips lingered longer than he knew she intended, and she slipped her hand up his back to his head, and fisted her fingers in his hair. "You know," she murmured, continuing to smile like a total loon, "this was probably the best first date, I've ever had."

"Ever?" he challenged, shifting onto his side and snaking his arm around her waist. She nodded and pressed herself against him, and he couldn't have been more relieved. "Good because I don't know anything about this stuff…And I'm sorry about Johnny and Lulu tagging along."

"That's okay," she laughed, arching her eyebrows in a way that made him worry. "It ended the way I think we both wanted." He wasn't about to argue with her there. "And we'll have more dates – in fact, since you planned this one, I think it's my turn."

"We're taking turns?" he asked, continuing to be confused by all this dating business.

"Oh yeah," she replied, slipping her hands between his legs, clearly trying to distract him. "And I already have the perfect idea in mind."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Dating was probably the dumbest idea ever created by man.

Correction, _women._

No self-respecting, or sane man would have created the idea of wooing a nother woman unless it involved a few drinks, a fancy dinner, and some high thread count sheets. If women would take a step back and realize how much stress they were putting themselves under for the same kind of results that came with drinks and dinner, they would probably rethink the entire ordeal. Instead, they used it as an excuse to get men to do things they normally wouldn't, promising dirty things in the process, and it just wasn't fair that they were such manipulators.

"No," Jason had told Elizabeth flatly, when she dragged him to the community center downtown for their second date. He repeated the word as she pulled him into the building, stopping at a door with a colorful _"Couples Cooking"_ sign, and saying it over and over as she tried to push him into the room. "Not happening, Webber."

"Oh, come on," she had pouted, folding her arms over her chest while conveniently wearing a low cut shirt. "This could be fun."

"No."

"Jason."

"No."

And so it went for nearly fifteen minutes, until she leaned forward and slipped her arms around his neck, whispering that it had always been a fantasy of hers to cook for him, wearing nothing but an apron. Despite pointing out that it was a ridiculous fantasy because he wouldn't let her get very far, he allowed her to pull him into the room.

Fifteen minutes later they were back in his SUV, Elizabeth sobbing in the front seat after being kicked out of class after catching the oven on fire while attempting to bake chocolate chip cookies. The teacher had been shocked that someone was capable of doing such a thing, saying it was the first time it had ever actually happened. Elizabeth had been so embarrassed that she could barely excuse herself, and Jasonhe failed to calm her down as she ranted on and on about what a terrible woman she iswas, and that she'd never be able to cook anything.

"Your brownies are good," he had reminded her, smoothing his hand up and down her back.

"I can't feed you brownies for the rest of your life," she had moaned, pulling away when he tried to wrap his arms around her. "Just…just take me home, Jason."

And so had gone their second date.

Keeping with the rules, he had went ahead and planned a third date, buying tickets to the off-Broadway showing of Rent, which he hadn't realized was about poor, homosexuals with AIDSs. He just knew Elizabeth had been hinting aboutt wanting to see it from the second she saw the ad in the Herald, and needless to say, he fell asleep long before intermission. She'd woken him up by twisting his ear, stalking out of the theater when his eyes finally snapped open.

"What's wrong?" he'd asked, chasing her out of the theather.

"Oh, you should have just given the stupid tickets to me," she'd hissed back angrily, throwing her hands up. "I could have taken Lulu, someone who actually enjoysed Broadway."

"Look, I'm sorry," he'd apologized, trying to grab her hand, but failing as sheshe continued to stalk away, heading for the parking lot.

"Whatever, Jason," she'd spat, waiting impatiently on the passenger's side of the car. "Just take me home."

And so had gone their third date.

Dates four through seven hadn't gone much differently, only one had involved them running into Patrick at some stupid couple's dancing thing at the Metro Court, and he'd flirted so hard with Jason's girlfriend, that he'd almost broke the stupid artist's hands. And he wasn't even going to touch the questionable instructor who complimentemented Jason on his toned ass several times as he spun Elizabeth around the dance floor.

Jason was the one who demanded to go home _that_ night; partly pissed off that he'd agreed to yet another couple's thing only because Elizabeth promised to do something naked, but mostly because he was realizing these naked promises were never going to come true. Not to mention that he was forever scarred by the instructor.

Of course, in between all of that, they'd gone to dinner and lunch, and long walks through the park, but Elizabeth insisted those weren't official dates, so he went along with it. Even if it was just because it was the only time they weren't ready to rip one another's throat out.

This was precisely why he was very fucking determined to make their next date exceptionally special. He didn't care that it was out of turn or that it wasn't over the top, but it was something that was them. It wouldn't help Elizabeth cook or dance any better, and it didn't involve having a snowball fight in the park where he'd hit her a little too hard in the face. It was simple, which wasis what they should have been going for all along.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked, coming out of the guest bedroom to find Jason sitting on the edge of the bed, tossing his keys back and forth in his hands. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, the kind of clothes that made him want to curl up beside her all night.

Not seeing each other so much had probably been the hardest, yet best part of this whole dating thing.

It was sort of fun to go from day to day, not knowing when Elizabeth was going to call, say something dirty, hang up on him, and call back five seconds later as if she hadn't just told him what she was going to do when they were alone. And Johnny had helped Jason out on his end, advising him to send her flowers from time to time or just a silly little card. Going to the florist and ordering the things made Jason feel like an idiot, but Elizabeth was always so touched, even a little turned on by it, so that was worth it.

Okay, so when wasn't she turned on?

They'd sort of fallen into this unspoken deal of avoiding the penthouse, their previous abode, and the few escapades they'd had happened in the back of his SUV, and those were _really_ fun.

"I'm taking you out tonight," he replied, tossing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt towards her. "Put these on."

"You went through my drawers?" she asked, laughing when she picked up the clothes and a lacy, black thong slipped out. "Pervert." He didn't deny it. "So, is this a date?"

"I'm going out of turn," he replied, motioning for her to put on the clothes, "but I promise it'lls be worth it."

"You know, you really aren't supposed to just show up like this," she said, clutching the clothes to her chest with one hand, the other on her hip. "You're giving me no time to make myself pretty and-"

"You're already pretty," he interrupted, grabbing her hand and pulling her into his lap. He nuzzled the side of her face, brushing her hair away from her neck to kiss the delicate skin at the base of it. "Let me take you out tonight, Elizabeth."

"Mmm," she purred, slipping her arm around his neck to rake her fingers through his hair. "If you do that, you'll never get me out of here."

"Really?" he asked, wondering if she was ever going to give in and letto letting him take her in Lulu and Johnny's guest bedroom. There was something so damn appealing about it -, probably because it felt wrong, like Lulu would disapprove. "Johnny and Lulu aren't home."

"Uh-uh," she muttered, wiggling out of his arms and backing towards the bathroom with the clothes he'd given her. "As appealing as it soundsis to let you take me on the antique dining room table…" She giggled when he groaned as she slippednd slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

**********

"What is this?" Elizabeth asked flatly, buttoning her peacoat as she made her way down the driveway.

She'd buttoned it in the house, but Jason had pinned her against the front door, carefully undoing each one as he kissed the living hell out of her. Had it been her house, her own place to mark, she would have let him take her against the cold glass of the front door, but it wasn't so she had to say no.

God, saying no was killing her.

"A motorcycle," he grunted, rubbing his temple with the Harley keychain he held tightly in his fist.

"Yeah," she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she walked around it, not quite sure what the hell was wrong with her boyfriend. "Are you having a mid-life crisis or something?"

"I've told you before that I wanted one," he shrugged, shuffling behind her as she circled the bike.

"Jason…" Shaking her head, she folded her arms over her chest, nibbling her lip as she _glared_ at the vehicle. "Did you wear a helmet?" She wasn't surprised when he didn't answer, and she stopped at the front of the bike, reaching out to poke the cold handlebars with her fingertip. "Why would you buy a motorcycle?"

"I wanted one," he answered dumbly, furrowing his brow as if he couldn't understand why she was upset. "Look, we can take your car if you want. I know it's really cold, but Johnny and I went by the dealership the other day, and I couldn't stop thinking about this, so I went out today and…"

"You don't have to explain it," she sighed, working her teeth roughly over her lip as she closed her eyes. It was stupid to think about the accident from so long ago, and then the one he'd had last summer, but she couldn't stop herself. "I don't know what the statistics are for accidents with these things, so just promise me that you'll be careful."

"Oh," he whispered, rolling the key around in his palm. "I didn't even think – if it upsets you-"

"No," she interrupted, swallowing hard as she held out her hand. "It makes me a little nervous, and I'm not going to badger you about wearing a helmet because I know you won't. Just be careful."

"Deal," he grinned crookedly, linking their fingers together. "Don't worry, okay?" Taking a deep breath, she nodded, realizing thatknowing she'd always have some silly apprehensions about itthis, but knowing if Jason felt the need to be a man or something, who was she to stop him. "So…you want to go for a ride?"

"Uh…" She rolled her head from side to side and finally noddeding. "But I want to wear a helmet, and you can't go too fast."

"Alright," he said, handing her the helmet from the back of the bike, laughing as she tugged it over her head.

"Shut up," she replied teasingly.

What kind of date was this?

He was making her look like some stupid bobble head.

He kept laughing as he slipped his leg over the bike, tossing his head behind him for her to get on, and she just couldn't help but revel in the image of Jason Morgan, clad in his token leather jacket as he straddled a motorcycle. Suddenly, she saw what her dreams had been made of – well, at least the dirty ones.

"Slow," she repeated, climbing on behind him, her hands slipping around his waist, clutching tightly out of fear of the unexpected. She flinched when the ignition suddenly roared, pressing herself against him as he pulled out of the driveway, the freezing winter wind whipping around them.

**********

"That was…incredible," Elizabeth breathed, shaking her hair out as she took off the helmet, her teeth chattering.

"You're freezing," Jason sighed, snaking an arm out to pull her against him and wondering if this had beenwas a bad idea. The last thing she needed was to get sick again.

She immediately curled against the warmth of his chest, stretching to brush her lips against his chin. "I'm fine," she whispered, dropping her face back to his chest as she laughed. "God, that was so much fun."

"I know," he replied, smoothing his hands up and down her back, trying to get her as warm as possible.

Elizabeth had surprised them both, urging him to go faster and laughing when he did, despite the fact that they were on the windy cliff road.

"This may have been the best idea ever," she murmured, tipping her head back to look at him, still shivering, and he couldn't resist lowering his mouth to hers. Their teeth clanged from the chill, but seconds later, the touch of their tongues spreading warmth throughout their bodies.

"Mmm," he groaned against her lips, fighting the urge to slip his hands inside her coat, knowing they were far too cold to touch her. She laughed as she pulled away, her cheeks rosy from the chilly air. "We better head back. I don't want you to get sick again."

"Whatever," she pouted, rolling her eyes as he handed her the helmet. She tightened her shoulders around her as she shivered. "Where are we anyway?"

"Just a little ways out of town," he replied, scuffing his boots against the frozen snow on the side of the road. "I used to drive up here all the time after my accident. It was nice to get away from everything."

"You just drove?" she asked, hugging the helmet against her middle, her eyes wide with curiosity.

It was rare that they could talk about his accident without one of them getting emotional, so this was a good change. "Yeah. There's this road a ways up that just sort of trails off, where an old estate used to be. It burned down, I think, but the land is beautiful."

"It's just abandoned?" she asked, smiling softly when he nodded. "That's sad."

"We should go up there up there sometime," he offered, skimming his hand across the handlebar of the bike. Her eyes lit up and he couldn't help but laugh. "When it's warm…you could sketch or something. There's some statues and stuff. You'd like it."

"We'll take the bike?" she asked, slipping the helmet over her head as he nodded. "Good. Then it's a date."

**********

"I think this should count as cheating," Elizabeth said, wagging a finger at him as she lifted a shot of tequila to her mouth.

"What?" he asked, taking a swig from his beer as she returned the empty shot glass to the bar.

"Bringing me to Jake's," she slurred, reaching over to take his beer from his hand. "Mine's empty."

"I'll get you another," he laughed, holding his hand up to get Coleman's attention.

"Doesn't make you any less of a cheater, Morgan," she muttered, leaning in towards him, the neckline of her shirt showing off far too much skin, which was precisely why he'd picked it out. "Bringing me to a bar and getting me drunk."

"You did that all on your own," he reminded her, sliding Coleman a twenty when he brought over two more beers and another shot of tequila.

"It was all part of your master plan," she said, waving her finger at him as she nudged his arm.

Well, he wasn't going to admit it outright.

It's not like he intended to get Elizabeth sloshed and take her home to bed her or anything like that, but it was something that was familiar to them, something easy and natural, and it didn't involve a roomful of other couples or singing, dancing people on a stage.

"I just wanted to play pool," he replied, handing her a fresh beer and taking his old one back. She'd nurse those damn things all night long, and they'd get warm, and he couldn't stand the thought of someone drinking a warm beer.

"I don't think I can," she frowned, starting to take the shot, but deciding against it. "Take it, Morgan. I won't let you liquor me up any further." She eased herself off the stool as she tossed back the shot, waiting patiently for him to follow her over to one of the empty pool tables. "I haven't played in a while."

"I know," he grinned, setting his beer down on the edge of the table and grabbing a rack from the wall.

That may have actually been part of his plan – to warm her up slowly by reminding her how to play, that way he wouldn't have to ask her to come home, she'd be begging.

"Hmm," she murmured, bracing one handg against the pool table as she rolled the cue ball around on the felt. "We need stakes."

"You're drunk," he pointed out, placing the rack back on the wall and grabbing a couple of pool cuessticks.

"Drunk people can play pool," she muttered dumbly, snatching the stick from his hand. "If I win…" She leaned against the table and skimmed her hand down her side, settling it at the curve of her hip, which just happened to bewas tucked away in the snuggest pair of jeans she owned, which was why he'd picked them, too. Her eyes darkened as her tongue snaked out to trace her lower lip. "You come home with me."

"To Johnny and Lulu's?" he asked, shaking his head. "Not happening."

"Then you better win," she said, pushing herself away from the table and walking over to him. "Because if you do, then I'll go home with you."

**********

"You have to admit it," Elizabeth murmured, bumping him with her hip before slipping past him and not so subtly pressing her bottom against the front of his jeans.

Ha.

Boys made it so easy to turn them on.

"Admit what?" he asked, his eyes raking over her as she stretched across the end of the table, her shirt sliding up to reveal her stomach.

"This dating stuff," she replied, trying to smoothly slide the stick through her fingers.

Son of a bitch.

Was she stripes or solids?

"Yeah," he muttered, sucking in a breath when she wiggled her hips and carefully thrust the stick forward, sinking the nine ball into the corner pocket.

Ha.

Suck it, Morgan.

"It's been fun," she grinned, flashing him a satisfied grin as she sauntered around the table eyeing her next target.

And she wasn't just saying that to say it.

Granted, Jason had pissed her off more times than she could count in the last month and a half, but it had been so fun that she wouldn't hold it against him.

They'd actually gone to couples cooking and ballroom dancing, , and she wouldn't hold itshe really couldn't blame him against him for refusing to go to thatsome silly couples sex toy party (where they sold the toyssilly little toys, and no swinging was involved – not something that involved swinging).

Ha.

She should tell him she wanted to swing.

His head would probably explode.

"It has been," he agreed, walking up behind her as she bent over the table, enjoying the wiggle ofwiggling her hips when she felt him pressing against her, his arm stretching out to cover hers before she could take her shot. "I'm stripes."

Oh, damn.

"No, I'm stripes," she corrected, turning around in his arms, daring him to challenge her. She slid one arm around his neck while the other clutched her pool cuestick to her side. "Remember, I knocked in the…seven first."

"That's a solid," he chuckled, his breath hitching when she raked her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

"I want to be stripes," she said seriously, stretching to gently press her lips against his. "Jason…" She nipped at his lip, sinking her teeth into it, and then smoothing it with the tip of her tongue. "Let me be stripes."

"You just want to take me home," he replied, hissing when she tossed her stick on the table and gripped his belt buckle, splaying her fingers out in a way that was surely not meant for the public of Jake's to see.

Ha.

She was being such a tramp.

And he was loving it.

"I do," she admitted softly, laughing against his mouth. "So let me take you home, sneak you inside, and…"

"Elizabeth," he growled, snaking his arm around her waist as he nipped at her mouth.

"Yeah?" she asked, pressing against him.

She couldn't help it.

There was something so appealing about the thought of sneaking Jason into her perfectly decorated bedroom at Lulu's and letting him take her from behind in front of the dresser.

Ha.

No doubt Lulu's furniture had never seen the likes of her and Jason.

"Okay," he muttered, pulling her hand away from his belt and tugging her towards where their coats were draped over the end of the bar. "You can be stripes."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"Well, this is exciting," Lulu said, setting another place at the table when Elizabeth appeared in the doorway with Jason behind her. "And a relief. I thought Elizabeth might have a guest with her at breakfast this morning. Needless to say, I'm relieved it's you."

"Yeah, about that…" Elizabeth murmured, stiffening when Jason shoved her forward, desperate to get to the food that lined the table.

She'd barely been able to stop him from making a beeline for the kitchen when he'd woken up and smelled bacon. A smell that did nothing for Elizabeth except make her stomach churn – or maybe that was the fact that she'd woken up naked with one of her wrists tied to her broken headboard and Jason snoring on top of her.

Yeah, it had been an interesting morning so far.

"We didn't mean to disturb you," she apologized, knowing it was a better idea to tell her about the headboard later. "We were at Jake's…this was closer than the penthouse, so…"

"No problem," the blonde grinned, motioning for them to sit as she turned around to make them each a cup of coffee. "At first, I thought you and Jason had a fight or something because there was so much slamming and then John and I realized…" She walked over to the table and set a steaming mug in front of each of them. "Well, it doesn't make for great breakfast conversation."

"No," Elizabeth agreed, wrapping her hands around the mug and lifting it to her mouth.

A few cups of coffee and she might actually be able to talk to Lulu about this. She tossed a few pieces of bacon onto her plate and grabbed a piece of toast, eager to eat and please her friend this morning if it meant they would never talk about thiscould avoid this discussion just a bit longer.

Seriously, what the fuck was she thinking?

And Jason, too.

He wasn't getting away with this; taking her out for a cold, but very romantic ride out of town, and then to the bar to warm her up with tequila shots and his hands.

Stupid man.

Leaning back in her chair, she took another sip of coffee, rolling her eyes when he piled his plate high with food. Clearly, their previous evening wasn't on his mind, and he had been sober. Hadn't he? He was the one who decided that it was a grand idea to come back to Johnny and Lulu's instead of taking her home.

And he was obviously was the one who'd tied her to the headboard.

God, she didn't even want to know why half of it was now on the floor.

SThough she had imagined the night was completely enjoyable, and she couldn't remember any of it, which didn't seem the slightest bit fair.

"Good morning," Johnny beamed, striding into the kitchen and giving his friends a smug grin as Lulu busied herself by making her husband a cup of coffee. "Sleep well?"

"Fuck you," Jason hissed under his breath, throwing a piece of bacon at O'Brien, who caught it expertly and shoved it into his mouth.

Stupid, stupid men.

Elizabeth looked over at Lulu, hoping that she would correct Jason on his breakfast table language, but either she hadn't heard him or last night was too fresh in her mind.

"You can't have gotten much sleep," O'Brien teased, kissing Lulu on her temple as he took his cup of coffee, muttering something about not knowing which tie to wear.

Wow.

So she dressed him too.

She turned towards Jason, expecting him to notice this sickeningly cute display of affection, but he was too busy shoving food in his mouth to care.

Yeah, well, Jason better not get any fucking ideas.

Elizabeth was not dressing him.

Or cooking him breakfast.

Or making his stupid coffee.

"Wear the stripes," Lulu said, reaching around him for her cell phone when it buzzed on the counter. She promptly turned it off because using cell phones at the table or anywhere near it was very rude.

_Stripes. _

Son of a bitch.

Groaning, she slumped over, scrubbing her hand over her face as she vaguely recalled leaving Jake's, getting on Jason's motorcycle where she groped him fiercely until they pulled into the driveway. He'd covered his mouth when with hiser hand as she giggled and ledt them into the house, and she remembered falling into the table next to the door – the table with Lulu's collection of ceramic ducks.

Fuck.

Had Jason cleaned up the mess?

Or had she found the broken little duckies this morning?

This food was probably poisoned.

"You gonna eat that?" Jason asked, reaching over to take the bacon from her plate. She didn't even bother to look up, afraid that if she did, she might throttle him.

Oh, hell.

She'd fallen into their Johnny and Lulu's bedroom door too, which had prompted Jason to pick her up and carry her to her room. Or was that him just carrying her to bed? She groaned again and leaned back in her chair, glaring at her boyfriend, who looked back with a wide grin.

She was going to kill him.

"I'm not hungry," she muttered, pushing her chair back suddenly and setting her mug back on the table. "Thanks for breakfast, Lulu." She rolled her eyes when Jason continued to shove food into his mouth. "I'm sorry about last night."

Johnny chuckled as she disappeared out of the room, shaking his head at his friend. "Dude, you are in so much fucking trouble."

**********

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, leaning against the doorway of Elizabeth's room, watching as she opened drawers and shoved her clothes into suitcases.

"Moving," she replied, sitting down on one of the over packed suitcases and tugging on the zipper. "I was getting close to overstaying my welcome, but this was completely overboard. I brought you home and did things with you…" She motioned around the room as she shook her head. "Everywhere."

"Yeah," he grunted, grinning as he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. "You did."

"Shut up," she muttered, fumbling with the suitcase. "And you better fix that headboard before I leave today, Jason." He stifled a laugh as he walked over to the bed, pulling on the belt of her robe that was still tied to the wooden post. "You are not funny."

"Oh, come on," he said, sucking in a breath when he remembered how she had looked sprawled out on the bed, her wrists bound to the headboard. "You _asked_ me to do it."

"I did not," she hissed, glaring at him as she moved to her feet. Her cheeks flushed as she looked at him, and he could see the memories slowly creeping on her. "You were the one who took me out and got me drunk and…"

"I wanted to take you home," he replied, scooting the bed away from the wall and bending down behind it, not exactly sure how in the hell to fix this.

He could always tell Johnny, blackmail him with something so that he would fix it and never let Lulu know, but something told him from the way the headboard had slammed against the wall a couple of times, O'Brien would never let him hear the end of it.

"Then you should have," she said, pulling her curls away from her face and twisting them into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She walked over to the dresser and poked around for a headband, glaring at the several handprints that ran across the mirror.

Yeah, he'd taken her there too.

"This isn't funny," she sighed, dropping down on the edge of the bed and shoving the headboard towards the wall.

"Hey," he cried, pulling his head out from behind it.

Her lips curved upward and she tried not to laugh, but seconds later she fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles. "Lulu is probably dying to inspect this room."

"Yep, and she'll definitely buy new furniture," he agreed, lying down on his stomach beside her.

"You're enjoying this far too much, Morgan. She couldn't even look me in the face," she laughed, rolling onto her side, her face flushed with embarrassment. "She already thinks that I'm some messy, garbage infested tramp."

"She does not," he muttered, reaching over to stroke his fingers through her hair. Yawning, she closed her eyes and nuzzled her way over to him. "Tired?"

"I may not remember exactly what happened," she said, pressing her face against his chest as he slid his arm around her, "but I know I didn't get much sleep…And I'm a little sore."

He laughed against her ear, causing her to shiver. "I was going to take you back to my place, but you insisted on sneaking me up to your bedroom."

"Shut up," she warned, tipping her head back to look at him. "You've been trying to get me to sleep with you somewhere in this house for the last month."

"Well, I'd say we left our mark," he said, rolling her onto her back so that he was on top of her. He kind of liked remembering more things than she did. It gave him something to tease her about, and he'd tell her everything that had happened…as they reenacted it. "One day, Lulu will laugh about this."

"Johnny's never going to let us forget this," she reminded him, groaning her disapproval when he kissed the curve of her neck. "Well, you at least."

"Nah, I doubt he'll mention it much," he replied, pressing his face against her neck and breathing her in. He really missed having the time to just lay with her like this. "I bet he and Lulu have probably done some dirty things of their own in this-"

"Oh, that's enough," she interrupted, laughing as she shoved him away and sat up. Her face wrinkled as she looked around the room, her eyes widening as she stared at the closed door.

Yeah, he'd also taken her there too.

"I have to finish packing," she said, rubbing a hand over her face as she got up from the bed.

"You're really going to move?" he asked, sitting up on his elbows and watching as she pulled more clothes from a drawer and dumped them onto her suitcase.

"I just – I feel like I have to, and not just because of last night," she said, opening a makeup bang on the dressers and tossing some of her things into it. "I've been here for almost two months…" She zipped the bag closed and dropped it on top of her suitcase, her hands settling over her hips as she looked around the room. "I don't like living with people – or off them, especially Johnny and Lulu. I love them very much, but that breakfast? I wake up to that every morning, Jason. It's exhausting and they're always sucking face over their coffee cups."

"It was a good breakfast," he grinned, getting up and walking over to her when she sat down on her knees and started to fight with the suitcase again. She frowned as he batted her hands away and closed the suitcase with no fuss. "But I like your breakfast more."

"Shut it," she warned, lifting her eyes to his with a grin. "Donuts and a glass of milk hardly counts."

"I like donuts," he shrugged, causing her to laugh. He snakedsnaking his arms around her waist and pulled pulling her against him. "So, where are you moving to, Webber?"

"Well, I haven't gotten that far yet," she said, nibbling her lip.

She leaned against him as he skimmed his hand up and down her arm. "Elizabeth…"

Everything had been easy between them, despite their messy dates, and he didn't want to pressure her into something she wasn't ready for again. Though technically his reservations had been the reason she second guessed herself.

"Jason, I'm not doing this so you have to-"

"I know," he interrupted, slipping his hand up to her cup her face, "but…if you want to come home – back to the penthouse…"

He wasn't the type of person to get stupidly sentimental, but he hadn't woken up next to Elizabeth in two months, and that had been the best part of his morning. He even missed listening to her nag about his snoring and how he laid on top of her, and he definitely missed lying in bed as she showered, only to get up in time to see her stepping out and slipping the towel around her.

Yeah, they'd done it that this morning too.

"O – okay," she replied, smiling nervously as he stroked her cheek. "As long as you're not doing this to keep me out of a bind or to help out – I just want you to do this because-"

"I miss you," he interrupted, pulling her mouth to his and kissing her gently. "And the penthouse misses you."

"The penthouse?" she asked, grinning against his mouth.

"Yeah, and your stuff is lonely," he added, resting his forehead against hers. "And I think we can do this – that things will be different because like you said last night, this dating stuff and the time apart, it's been good for both of us."

Extremely difficult, but he didn't want her to feel guilty about the decision. It was hard to go from seeing her every day, but not seeing her gave him something to look forward too, and now he sort of understood why women were so big on being taken on dates now.

Even if dating drove him completely fucking insane.

"Yeah," she agreed, lacing her fingers with his as she moved to straddle him. "You've always been too good to me."

"Someone has to take pity on you," he replied, slipping his hands beneath her shirt and resting them on her hips.

"Pity, huh?" She laughed against his mouth as she kissed him hard, nipping at his lip, and he let himself fall backwards, taking the chance to flip her over onto the carpet. "Jason-" He covered her mouth with his, not surprised when she didn't fight him, slipping and slipped her arms around him and, pulling him roughly against her. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, skimming across up her stomach torso and finding their way beneath her bra, causing her to hiss against into his mouth.

God, he really loved this girl.

She gasped when he nipped at her lip as he rolled a nipple between her his thumb and forefinger, murmuring something about how she wasn't sure if she had it in her to go another round, but he knew she did. They hadn't even neared their record.

"Elizabeth?" Jason swore as he looked up from the floor and her door swung open, Lulu's eyes going wide as she looked down at them on the floor. "Oh…well…" She cringed as Jason pulled his hands from beneath Elizabeth's shirt, looking away, which probably wasn't a good idea because then she just looked at other things in the room. "Okay."

"Yeah," Elizabeth muttered, squirming her way out from beneath Jason who remained frozen in horror on the carpet. She shoved a few stray curls from her face and groaned when Lulu's eyes narrowed at the headboard. "Uh, Jason will be writing you a check for that."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"Elizabeth?" Jason murmured, yawningyawned, still half asleep as he lifted his head, confused when his hand landed on the empty space beside him.

He rolled onto his back and wiped a hand over his face as he pushed himself with the other, panicking for a moment because the simple fact that had Elizabeth had moved home was almost like a dream, but then he heard a noise down the hall. Yawning again, he tossed back the comforter and reached over the side of the bed for his sweatpants that Elizabeth had pulled off him the second he put them on.

Her homecoming had been awkward at first for the both of them, and it wasn't until she threw herself into his arms, whispering that this was the only place she wanted to be, that things felt right. They spent the entire day in bed, mostly sleeping off their lack of sleep from the night before along with her hang over, but they'd managed to have a very nice homecoming in between naps.

"Elizabeth," he called out again, looking up and down the hallway before noticing the light beneath the door of the guest room. He gently knocked as he turned the doorknob, and she swore as she jumped up from the bed, covering her hands with her face. "Elizabeth…what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she muttered, shaking her head as she turned towards herhim, letting her hands fall to her sides. Her hair was wild and tangled against her shoulders, her eyes red and puffy.

"It's something," he murmured, walking over to her. He carefully tucked her hair behind her ears and smoothed his hands down her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Well, you – you packed up my stuff," she stammered, pulling away and motioning around the room to the various boxes. "You packed everything up."

"Yeah," he nodded dumbly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, and honestly, he hadn't even thought about how he'd packed everything up one night amidst a drunken stupor because he was tired of seeing her stuff everywhere.

It just wouldn't stop glaring.

Her art books, her coffee mugs, her stupid, soft blankets, and what few pairs of shoes had been left behind – it all just wouldn't stop looking at him as if he'd done something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep," she shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "And I wanted a sketchbook, just something to do, and I realized nothing was where I left it." She raked her curls back from her face and twisted them into a messy bun as she looked at him. "I – I knew I hurt you when I left, but I didn't realize how much."

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about," he said, easing down beside her and slipping his arm around her waist.

"I know," she agreed, her body instinctively curling against his side. "Do you think that maybe we aren't being realistic about living apart – about what it really meantwas…really about?"

He frowned, unsure of what she meant.

"I left because I didn't think you wanted to marry me – to be with me _forever_," she continuedexplained, letting out a shaky breath. "You were willing to make a business commitment, but not a life one, and that was really hard for me to hear. And you said that you wanted to date me, that you wanted to marry me one day – maybe I'm just afraid that…"

"I didn't mean any of it," he filled in quietly, smoothing his hand up and down her back. He understood what she was getting at; that they had dealt with their time apart on the surface, but they hadn't _really_ talked about it.

"Maybe," she admitted nervously, pressing her face into his chest. "This was so hard on both of us. We didn't really talk about it, except to say that we don't didn't want to _not_ be together. And it's not that I don't believe you when you say you want to marry me." She bit her lip as she pulled herself out of his arms to look at him. "You don't even know how good it felt to hear you say that."

"Probably as good as it felt to say it," he confessed, skimming his hand down her thigh to her knee where he took her hand. "I think that living apart – at least for me…" He sighed uncomfortably, knowing that words camedidn't always come fairly easily to him, but and feelings – ts, they were an entirely different story. "I liked going on dates – liked not knowing what to expect. You surprise me almost every day, but this was different – it reminded me why I _have_ to have you in my life."

"Exactly," she agreed, rolling her eyes when they filled with tearsher eyes filling with tears as she flushed with embarrassment.. "I liked not knowing when you were going to call or what you would plan for us to do, and most of the time that I was snapping and yelling at you for screwing things up…I don't know. I think I was just frustrated that we were still apart."

"Eh," he grunted, shaking his head. "I messed up a lot."

Laughing, she scooted closer, stretching to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I did too. Couples Cooking?"

"It would have been fun," he shrugged, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. "Except you started a fire."

"That's still not funny," she teased, smoothing her hands over his shoulders as she shifted to straddle him. "I just wanted to be able to cook dinner for you. I can't feed you out of Styrofoam containers for the rest of our lives."

"I like takeout," he replied, slipping his hands beneath his t-shirt that she was wearing, a sight he had definitely missed. "You don't have to be someone you're not, Elizabeth. I like that you can't cook and that you swear and that you're not perfect."

"Thanks, Morgan," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"You know what I mean," he replied, his hands settling over her hips. "Before you moved out, you talked about how things with us were so different – that we didn't date, that our relationship started as a lie…Like those were bad things."

"To most people, they are," she pointed out with a grin.

"Yeah, but we aren't most people," he reminded her, smoothing his thumbs over her skin and causing her to shiver. "I like that we're different – that we do things in untraditional ways and those things lead us to do-"

"Even crazier things," she interrupted, leaning forward to press her lips to his. Their lips brushed against one another's, mouths slowing parting as they kissed each other lazily, knowing their time together was no longer constrained. She nuzzled his cheek as she pulled away, her lashes fluttering closed. "We should probably go back to bed."

"That so?" he asked roughly, sucking in a breath when she wiggled his hips against hers.

"Yeah," she murmured, hissing when his hands skimmed up her sides to cup her breasts. "I think my girl moment is over."

"You sure?" he asked, her nipples hardening beneath the touch of his thumbs. "I don't want you to accuse me later of distracting you."

She laughed, brushing her lips over his cheek, tracing a hurried path to his ear. "Actually, I was trying to distract you," she murmured, pulling his earlobe between her teeth. She flicked her tongue against it, causing him to groan before she pulled back and looked at him. "We're okay, Morgan. I know that. I think I always will, but sometimes…"

"You want to hear it," he nodded understandingly, tugging her legs around his waist. He cupped her bottom with one hand, pushing himself up with the other as he kissed the side of her face, and started towards their bedroom.

God.

They really were one of those sickeningly cute couples.

Who had real relationship conversations.

Followed by great, mind-blowing sex.

And he'd be damned if he changed any of it.

"Jason," she murmured, lifting her hips up as he set her down in the middle of the bed and reached for her underwear, secretly surprised that she'd actually put a pair back on.

"Yeah?" he asked, tugging the lacy material down her legs.

Her breath hitched as his hands skimmed beneath the t-shirt, groping her roughly in his hands before grabbing it by the hem, and pulling it over her head. "You do realize _you_ have to unpack everything."

He helped her shove his sweatpants down to his knees where he managed to kick them to the floor, finally settlingand finally moved over her. "Mmm," he groaned, settling settling between her legs as he wrapped his arms around her. "Consider it done."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"Is that what I think it is?" Johnny asked, leaning against the doorway of Jason's office and staring at the black, velvet box his friend was tossing back and forth between his hands.

Jason dropped it as he straightened in his desk chair. The box rolled beneath his desk and he leaned forward in such a hurry to get it that he smacked his forehead into the edge of it, swearing loudly as he grabbed the box and glared at Johnny.

"Your door was open," he defended, stepping inside and closing it behind him. "Be glad that I'm not Elizabeth."

"You couldn't have been her," Jason muttered, opening his top desk drawer and dropping the box inside. "She's shopping with Lulu – looking for a dress for tonight."

"And you're sitting in your office, staring at the engagement ring you haven't given her," he laughed, taking the seat across from him, though Jason wish he hadn't. "What? I'm not complaining. This is better than that whole drunken, lovesick puppy thing you had going on a few weeks ago."

"I was not-"

"Oh, you were," O'Brien argued, prepared to list off the ways his best friend had in fact played the role of a heartbroken man.

"Fuck you," Jason grunted, shuffling papers around on his desk.

Just because Johnny knew how things had been didn't necessarily mean that he _had_ to comment on it.

Jason was well aware of what a mess he'd been when Elizabeth was living with him and Lulu. He was so used to seeing her everyday, having her nag and taunt him that sometimes a few drinks and a long conversation with Johnny was the only way to ignore how empty his penthouse was without her.

Going from seeing her a couple nights a week to having her in bed his bed every night, pour coffee in his kitchen, and filling up his DVR box with all her shitty television shows was a very nice change. He expected things to be more awkward and less comfortable, but after their initial night back in the penthouse, everything was going smoothly.

It was a relief that Elizabeth trusted in him, believed that he was genuine in his feelings with her after he'd been so firm about marriage that night at the gallery. He'd meant every word and wanted nothing more than to marry her – even if it meant scratchy tuxedos and dancing in a room full of people.

"You're such a fucking idiot," O'Brien laughed, rolling his eyes when Jason continued to glare at him. "How long have you been holding onto that ring, Jason? Just fucking ask her. You know she's going to say yes."

"We've both just been really busy," he shrugged, adding that she'd been preparing for a spring showing at the gallery and they were working on business mergers. "All these stupid parties keep taking up all my time."

"A proposal takes like five seconds," he sighed agitatedly, leaning forward. "Just ask."

"Whatever," Jason replied, stuffing papers into a folder and getting up from desk.

He wasn't going to explain to Johnny that he wanted this proposal to be _right_ – the kind of proposal that Elizabeth remembered forever, but not because it was stupid or he stumbled over his words, or said something entirely too cheesy.

Unfortunately, Jason Morgan was not a romantic guy, which worked out because Elizabeth wasn't a romantic girl.

No candles.

No flowers.

No neatly wrapped presents just to remind her that he loved her.

The closest they came to those things was when Jason would light a fire in the living room or when Elizabeth brought home a plant that she would kill in the matter of days. Their gifts for another came in the form of takeout containers and pints of ice cream, both of which he was extremely happy to receive.

Things were always easy and simple between, especially now that there was no elephant in the room, and he wanted this to be absolutely perfect.

"Are you nervous?" Johnny snickered, pushing himself up from the chair.

"No," he lied, shrugging as he jerked open a filing cabinet and thumbed through the folders. He knew Elizabeth would say yes – at least he thought he did, but she could always decide that she wasn't ready. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Let me give you some advice," he sighed, walking over and leaning against the filing cabinet.

"Because you know so much about proposing," Jason muttered, sliding the folder into the cabinet and slamming it closed. "You did it by accident-"

"No, I was going to propose, just not in the middle of a restaurant with you and Elizabeth there," he corrected, reaching over and patting Jason on the shoulder. "Look, I'm just pointing the obvious. You already told her – I assume – that you want to marry her, you know she wants to marry you, so she's probably just waiting on you to ask."

"I don't want to mess up how good things are," he groaned, not wanting to explore the possibility that Elizabeth had been waiting on him to propose.

Fuck.

She was probably all pissed off every time he gave her something that wasn't a ring.


	25. Chapter 25

_AN: Someone had emailed me about the updates here being different (proofing wise) than the updates on my website. As far as I know these updates should be the same, well edited versions unless it's some glitch when I upload from Word. For some reason, never lets me put a space between sections. I never figured out why, so that is probably confusing for some people too. I don't really take the time to read over what I post here, so there may be some kind of issues, and if it that's big of a deal to readers, I have the stories posted on my site too._

Anyway, thanks for all the feedback and everything. I'm having a hard time updating this and This Bitter Pill at the same time, but I'm trying. Enjoy! 

**Chapter 25**

Proposing was going to be the death of Jason Morgan.

It would haunt his obituaries, his tombstone, and every man who worked beneath him would make jokes for years and years to come. Of course, the loudest laugh would belong to none other than Elizabeth Webber (maybe one day Morgan if he actually survived). She would mock him, probably do verywith good imitations, and giggle about how she was the reason for it all.

Damn women.

Why did they have to make _everything_ so difficult?

The way Jason saw it, Johnny got off easy with his proposal to Lulu; bad timing in the middle of a fancy restaurant while your ex-fling watched on didn't seem so bad. Only Johnny had already used that, so Jason would have to find another route. He wasn't a romantic man by any means, but he'd be damned if his proposal wasn't memorable and cherished by Elizabeth for the rest of their lives.

He had already attempted the basics; a bouquet of roses, a perfectly cooked meal, and a candlelit dinner. Hours spent slaving over the stove as he tried to copy Elizabeth's favorite pasta dish from the Metro Court Hotel. Sure, he could have gotten takeout, but he wanted it to be special for her. And really, what else was that Couple's Cooking class for?

Except in Couple's Cooking they don't didn't explain the possible outcomes for making a romantic meal. Or maybe they did. Elizabeth had set the stove on fire so neither of them would never know exactly what happened that day in class.

Honestly, Jason thought it would be easy enough.

Elizabeth would spend a nice Saturday afternoon at her studio and come home to a dimly lit penthouse and perfectly set table. He never counted on her coming home with Lulu and Johnny in tow, and before he even had the table set for two, there were four people sitting down at the table, and he couldn't rightly tell them to leave. Most of the dinner was spent with him seething as everyone else drank wine and laughed, completely oblivious to what Jason had been trying to doup to.

Thankfully, his attempts hadn't gone completely unnoticed, and when Elizabeth climbed into bed beside him that night, she didn't just tell him how impressed she was with his meal, she showed him.

She showed him damn well.

If he knew all it took to get Elizabeth Webber down on her knees was to cook her aa fancy meal every once and while, even if it meant putting up with Lulu and Johnny without a any notice, he'd have been doing it a long time ago.

So when he'd gone to sleep that night, his naked girlfriend curled up against his side, he told himself he would ask her in the morning. If cooking dinner worked, breakfast in bed had to have a similar affect, except he woke up to an empty space beside him, and Elizabeth bringing _him_ in breakfast in bed.

With a deep breath, he'd pulled himself up against the headboard, forced a grin, and ate her burnt toast and very crispy bacon, after which he thanked her the very same way she had him. She'd curled up in his arms, murmuring about some painting she'd been working on, and just when he thought there was no better moment to give in and ask her, she started snoring. And by the time she woke up, Lulu was calling to go shopping and she was gone before he even had the chance.

Obviously, he was doing something very wrong, so he took her absence as the opportunity to plan.

Planning was _hard_.

So hard in fact that it required him to drink a beer and relax, and before he knew it, he was halfway through a twelve-pack of beer, and Elizabeth was beside him on the couch, moaning about all the money she'd spent. He may have been wrong, but something told him he couldn't exactly propose and face the embarrassment of slurring.

Fuck.

He was never going to get it right and trying was killing him with every passing day.

All week long he had been spent trying to find the exact moment, spending his lunch breaks avoiding her phone calls so he could sit at his desk and focus.

Focusing was harder than planning.

Thankfully, he managed enough of it to realize that just maybe it didn't matter exactly how he asked, but that he was simply asking. Elizabeth was easy to please – well, sometimes – a, and she wanted to get married, so surely however he went about it would be just fine. He'd learned from Johnny's proposal she would never want anything that public, so he scratched ideas of restaurants and went what for what he knew.

Home.

So all week he planned a yet another simple, romantic evening at the penthouse, making sure that Johnny and Lulu were otherwise occupied, and he stressed his need for Elizabeth to come straight home from work several times that day. Of course, she chalked it up to him being horny, but at least it brought her home.

And just maybe, he was a little horny.

He had to get rid of all the stress somehow.

And by the time evening rolled around, Elizabeth came home to another candlelit meal, another bouquet of roses, and the best bottle of wine he had in the house. By a wine connoisseurs taste, it might not have been the best, but it was the last thing he remembered to getneeding, and there wasn't enough no time to run out and get another bottle.

Elizabeth was surprised, touched even by another nice evening, and when he presented her with the flowers (in which he'd nestled the small ring box), she grinned and breathed them in only to break into what had to be the worst sneezing fit of all time. Jason was seriously afraid that she was going to stop breathing. Her face turned red, her eyes watered, and she'd ended up tossing the bouquet onto the counter and hurrying out of the room, mumbling something about allergies.

Frustrated that another attempt was going awry, he thought quickly and pulled the ring box from the flowers, hurrying to slip the ring out before she caught him. And thennd he dropped the ring into a glass of wine and brought it to her in the living room where her sneezing was slowly subsiding. She apologized for her reaction to the flowers as she sipped her wine, her nose twitching as she breathed in the dark liquid.

He'd rolled his eyes and asked if she was allergic to wine too, and she'd jumped so fast that she'd sloshed some of it onto the couch, but barely paid attention as she made a beeline for the kitchen. Groaning, he followed behind her only to see her pouring the bottle of wine down the sink and grumbling about how awful it tasted. Against his better judgment he pointed out that she had only bought it about a week ago, and she snapped about having a bad day and said she just wanted to go to bed.

So much for proposing.

After she'd gone upstairs, he cleaned the kitchen, blew out the candles, and packed up the leftovers, shaking his head as he dipped his finger into the wine and pulled out the ring. Obviously, he was doing something wrong, or maybe this was a sign that they shouldn't be married at all.

Shoving all thoughts of wedded non-bliss aside, he finally followed his girlfriend up to bed where he found her crying into her pillow, immediately causing him to panic. Maybe the wine had actually been bad and somehow along with the roses had made her ill, and when he'd rushed to her side, she'd buried her face in her pillow, continuing to moan about what a bad day she'd had and how she messed everything up. Suddenly, the proposal didn't matter. In fact, it was the furthest thing on his mind as he pulled her into his arms and did his damnedest to comfort her.

Eventually they'd fallen asleep leaving Jason 0-3, which was precisely why on this very night he was more determined than ever to finally ask her to marry him. Johnny was helping things along too, by threatening to ask for him, and Jason knew he had to stop being such a damn girl and get it over with.

Tonight was most definitely going to be _the_ night.

"What the fuck are you thinking about?" Johnny asked, elbowing Jason as he stepped up beside him at the bar in the Metro Court restaurant.

"Nothing," he muttered, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he looked through the crowd of people for Elizabeth.

Even though he understood why Johnny insisted on having parties to woo their clients, Jason hated it. He spent all night long talking to a bunch of stuffy old men about golf, grandkids, and the secretaries that they sometimes had affairs with, when all he really wanted to do was hide in the corner with his girlfriend.

"Liar," Johnny muttered, clucking his tongue as he stared at him. "I couldn't help but notice that Elizabeth _still_ doesn't have a ring on her finger."

Jason scowled, ignoring his best friend as he surveyed the room. Normally, Elizabeth was so easy to spot thanks to her tendency to wear a particularly bright (and dirty) shade of red, saying that she liked how Jason looked at her when she was wearing something he couldn't wait to take off. Tonight, however, she'd shown up in a slinky black number, which was very similar to what most women in the room were wearing. Usually, that still wouldn't be such a problem because so many of the wealthy, old men they knew frequented blondes, but apparently curvy, petite brunettes were in this season.

"…you're such a fucking coward," Johnny finished, taking a deep breath after the long speech he'd just given that hadn't been heard.

"Why do you care so much?" Jason asked, tipping his head towards O'Brien as he sipped his scotch and set it back on the bar. He, lookeding at the other men in the room, and wondering if he was seeing himself in twenty or thirty years. He grinned, finallyWhen he finally spotteding Elizabeth near the chocolate fountain – he should have known to look their first, he grinned, and figuredfiguring if Elizabeth was looking that good in twenty or thirty years, he'd have no complaints.

And something told him she would be.

"Are you going to do it soon or not?" he pressed, falling into step beside Jason as he started in Elizabeth's direction. "The suspense is killing me."

"Killing you?" he huffed, glaring at Johnny from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," he replied earnestly., sighing heavily. "YAnd you have no idea how hard it's been not to tell Lulu about that fucking ring."

"You didn't tell her?" Jason asked, surprised that his friend would keep something from his _perfect_ wife, thus tainting the trust of their _perfect_ marriage.

"If I would have told Lulu, she would have told Elizabeth," he explained, rolling his eyes. "Girl Code." Jason paused mid-step and looked at him. "It's just like when I told you about the dress, even though it was by accident, but had I known that she had bought a dress and you weren't going to get married-"

"That's enough," he interrupted, shaking his head and starting towards Elizabeth, nodding politely at his guests as he weaved through the crowd. He knew it was rude not to stop and shake hands or introduce himself to the facesto those he didn't recognize, but he didn't have time. Right now all that mattered was securing a ride home (and a brief stop along the way) with Elizabeth in the limo he'd rented with one brief stop along the way. "Fuck." He scrubbed a hand over his face when he got to the chocolate fountain and Elizabeth was suddenly gone.

"You're tense," Johnny observed, clapping him on the shoulder as he steered Jason in the direction of the terrace. "She just walked outside, you idiot."

"Do you have to keep following me?" Jason asked, glaring at O'Brien when he stayed in step with him.

"Unless you're proposing-"

"I can't propose if you don't go the fuck away," he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he shot Johnny an apologetic look, and awkwardly explained that he had tried various times to propose _several_ times, but it just wasn't working.

"You're trying too hard," Johnny replied, shaking his head smiling half-heartedly. "You're trying-"

"Oh, fuck you," Jason cut in hastily, slowing down as they neared the terrace doors.

Elizabeth was leaning against the railing as she, her head peeredpeering over the edge of the balcony. The material of her dress clung more beautifully than he remembered and her dark curls blew gently in the breeze that passed through. She looked so small and soft against the dimly lit city buildings and lights, and he really wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, except he couldn't.

Fucking Johnny.

And work.

And stupid old men.

Always in the fucking way.

"Whatever," O'Brien murmured quietly, his eyes drifting over to Elizabeth. "So, if you aren't asking her now-"

"Tonight," he answered, his chest tightening as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his tuxedo, and gently rolled the ring box around in his hand. "I hope."

"How?" he asked, his eyes lighting up in such a childish way that Jason couldn't help but give him the minor details. When he finished Johnny grinned, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "You've learned well." Jason rolled his eyes and started to pull away, but O'Brien tightened his hold and pulled him back. "Except everyone knows that you don't put jewelry in red wine, you dipshit. Be glad the wine was bad; she could have choked or something."

Jason spun around, preparing to – well, he actually hadn't decided on that yet, but it wasn't going to be good. Fortunately for Johnny, he backed away in a hurry, calling out to someone on the edge of the dance floor.

Asshole.

Grumbling under his breath, Jason cautiously approached Elizabeth, taking his time to admire just how beautiful and peaceful she looked. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days; having strange moments where she would just smile at him the right way or say something exceptionally endearing, and his heart would feel so tight he couldn't breathe.

Man, he fucking loved this girl even if she was trying to kill him.

"Hey," he murmured, shrugging off his jacket as he stepped up beside her and slid it over her shoulders.

"Hey yourself," she whispered, leaning back against his chest as he smoothed his hands up and down her arms. She sighed happily when his arms settled around her waist and he started to sway them to the music that was playing inside. "I was wondering if I was ever going to get your attention."

"Sorry," he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple, knowing he had a lot of making up to do in the date department.

Most of the evening had been busy with Johnny introducing him to the faces of the men he'd had conference calls and shared emails witheld many conference calls and shared emails with. Jason was never one for these kinds of things, but his partner insisted, so he gave in, which meant ignoring his date for most of the night. Elizabeth was usually good at these types of parties. She was loud and bubbly, knew all the right things to say, and she'd often accompanied Johnny just for fun in the early days of them running the business.

"What if I promise to make it up to you tonight?" he asked nervously, holding his breath until she turned around in his arms and looked up at him, her cerulean eyes dazzling with curiosity.

"Does this by chance involve a bed?" she asked, slipping her arms around his neck.

"Eventually," he grinned slyly, splaying a hand over the small of her back as he skimmed the other up her spine. His fingers found their way through her curls and gently wrapped around her neck as he lowered his mouth to hers, finally kissing her the way he'd been wanting to all night. "We just have to make a stop first."

She groaned against his lips and rocked back on her heels, grimacing as she looked up at him. "Do I even want to know what that's supposed to mean?" she asked exhaustedly, forcing a smile at him. "I'm just tired, Jason. I spent all day hanging and adjusting and then moving and re-hanging all this damn artwork…T. And the showing coming up upcoming showing has even more press than the last, which is either because I punched one of the featured artists or because her mob boyfriend snapped up every damn piece of hers, making it look like my place was the hot spot for art."

"I'm sorry," she grunted, slumping forward and burying her face in his chest. "I shouldn't be complaining to you on a night like this, but still…would you hate me if I went home early?"

Son of a bitch.

"I promise I'll stay up and wait for you," she added, stretching on her toes to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth. "Please. I know I'm being the whiney, dumb girl, but these heels are too high, and I'm exhausted, and you didn't pay any attention to me tonight anyway."

This was not happening.

"Jason," she sighed, her face filling with guilt. "Just forget about it. I'll st-"

"No," he interrupted, carefully tucking her loose curls behind her ears. "Go home."

She frowned. "Are you sure?" He nodded, and she continued to frown. "Really?" He nodded again, telling himself he _wasn't_ going to shake her if she asked him one more time. "Are you really-"

"Yes, I am really sure," he interrupted hastily, leaning over to kiss her again before she realized how upset he'd sounded. When he pulled away she was either too breathless to ask or hadn't picked up on his tone. "I'll walk you to your car."

"It's okay," she said, pulling herself out of his arms. "You stay and mingle and as soon as you can…just come home."

"I will," he replied, his smiling fading once she was out of sight.

Second later, Johnny appeared in the doorway, a stupid grin on his face, and Jason fought the urge to just punch him.

One fucking time.

That was all he needed.

"So when are you two-"

"She's going home," he interrupted, stopping Johnny before he got ahead of the both of them.

"What the fuck, Jason?" he moaned, leaning against the doorway, his head in his hands.

"Fuck you," he spat, knowing how pathetic he was starting to look.

0-4?

That was sad, _really_ sad, and Johnny would probably never let him live it down. Unless…, technically, there was still time for four, and 0-3 was better than 0-4, so he could do this.

He could really do this.

"Where are you going?" Johnny asked, grabbing him by the arm when he started inside.

"I have to mingle – your orders, remember?" he asked, jerking his arm away as he looked into the busy room. "And then I'm going – I'm going to ask Elizabeth to marry me, but…" Clearing his throat, he looked at Johnny, hating himself for what he was about to do, though he knew his friend would be overjoyed. "I'm going to need your help."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"Jason, if you do not call me back in the next ten minutes," Elizabeth growled, holding her cell phone between her cheek and shoulder as she pulled into a parking spot a block away from her gallery. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but it will _not_ be good."

Swearing, she flung her cell phone onto the passenger seat as she slammed her car into park, taking a deep breath as she leaned back against her seat. She was not going to cry or yell or even get the slightest bit emotional until she actually saw the damage, and once she saw what had happened to her hopes and dreams, she would erratically. Until then, she had to find Jason and decide whether or not she was going to kill him.

"Thank God," she hissed, snatching her phone from the seat when it vibrated. She answered as she unfastened her seatbelt. "Jason, I have been calling you for the last-"

"It's Johnny," he corrected, chuckling into the phone in a way that made Elizabeth want to throttle him. Who knew? By the end of the night she might actually go through with it. "Are you to at the damn gallery yet?"

"No," she huffed, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her. She made sure to turn on the alarm since there seemed to be criminals in the areas.

"Well, you should hurry. Jas – People are waiting," he scolded, and she just knew he was rolling his eyes at her.

"I was sleeping when you called," she reminded him, buttoning her peacoat as she started down the sidewalk.

Technically it was spring which called for less sweltering clothes, but it was the first thing she grabbed as she started out the door. Johnny had called and gotten her into such a rush that she'd just pulled on a pair of dirty jeans and tucked Jason's t-shirt she was wearing in them as she slipped on her shoes. There was no way she could actually talk to police and whoever else would be there looking like that, so she grabbed her coat and left.

She didn't even want to know how she looked and imagined it was no better than how she felt. It had been a long and exhausting week (for reasons that were primarily her fault), and the last thing she needed was for one of her best friends to wake her up in the middle of the night and say her gallery had been broken into.

Really, who in the hell stole art by a bunch of unnamed artists anyway?

That was when she knew this just had to be Sonny Corinthos' doing. The stupid mobster was bitter that she'd punched his whore of a girlfriend square in the face and now he was going to ruin her.

Ha.

That's he thought.

No one was going to get away with ruining Elizabeth Webber.

"Are you there yet?" he Johnny huffed, and she againshe knew she might have to drive to his house and strangle him.

"Almost, just a few buildings down," she replied annoyed, her brow furrowing her brow as she looked around. There wasn't a police car in sight and she definitely didn't see Jason's SUV anywhere. If this was one of O'Brien's stupid pranks like he used to pull when they were in high school, she was going to egg his house or toilet paper Lulu's herb garden. Surely, he wouldn't find that very amusing. "What the hell is going on?"

Taking a deep breath, she stopped in front of her building and glared at the windows and doors. Neither was broken. "Johnny, you want to explain why you woke me up at one in the morning? Why my boyfriend isn't answering his fucking-"

"Just go inside," he interrupted, followed by a prompt click that disconnected the call.

"Son of a bitch," she hissed, fighting the urge to throw her phone against the pavement. She fished through her keys and started to slide the one for the gallery into the lock, and then realized the door was open. "What the hell?"

Carefully, she pulled it open and peered inside, not surprised to be met with nothing but a dark room dimly lit by the moonlight. She had no idea what the hell was going on and wasn't even sure if she wanted to find out. In fact, she probably would have gone home had Jason actually been answering his phone and she was starting to worry that maybe something was wrong. Or maybe the building really had been broken into and Jason had already handled everything.

"Jason?" she called out, pulling the door closed behind her and locking it, which seemed stupid in case there really were was some kind of intruder that might be inside. But O'Brien would have been down here had the place been broken into. "Jas-" She stopped when she heard light footsteps on the stairs that led to the second level of the gallery, very familiar footsteps, and she knew without a doubt that it was Jason.

She started towards the stairs in a hurry, her fury building with every second, and by the time she was halfway up them, she couldn't stop herself from spewing. "Jason Morgan, I swear to God, if this is some stupid fucking prank…waking me up in the middle of the night…not answering your phone…and you better not be drunk." She stopped at the top to catch her breath, leaning against the railing as she geared herself up for the rest of her rant. "Jason! Why aren't you answering me? If you are drunk, I am going to – Oh. My. God."

Her throat tightened as she rounded the corner of the short hallway that led to the gallery, her eyes widening at the number of candles strewn about the room. It glowed softly in the light, and it was only when she got closer that she saw they weren't actually candles, but tiny lights, which was probably a good idea because at the rate she and Jason went, they'd burn the building down somehow.

Jason.

Suddenly, she remembered exactly how angry she was with him. She sucked in a breath when her eyes finally found him standing near the wide, open window, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tuxedo pants. His back was to her, shoulders pulled tight as if he were anxious or nervous.

Somehow, she willed herself forward, looking around the room again and noticing the blanket on the floor, the bottle of wine, and bouquet of flowers. He'd chosen something other than roses this time, but she couldn't quite figure out what they were from so far away. She let out a shaky breath as he turned away from the window, his eyes finding hers, and she knew no other man would ever fill out a tuxedo quite like Jason Morgan. She couldn't have run away even if she wanted to, even though she'd been trying to all week.

God, she was so fucking dumb.

He was going to propose. _Again._ Except now she'd say yes.

**********

Jason wasn't sure how long he stood there waiting for something to come out of his mouth or Elizabeth's, but nothing ever happened. They just stood there and stared, wistful smiles slowly breaking across their faces. "Hi," he finally managed, taking a deep breath as he fumbled with the first couple of buttons on his tuxedo shirt. The room felt smaller, hotter, and he was starting to wonder if he'd be able to do this. He'd been waiting for what felt like hours and was nervous that Johnny hadn't actually come through on his promise to get her to the gallery.

"Hi," she whispered back, hands fisted in the wool of her peacoat, which he didn't quite understand why she was wearing it. He swallowed hard as she shuffled her way over, her gaze falling every now and then to the lights. Her skin looked softer, fairer, and silkier in the soft glow of the room. He wanted nothing more than to touch her, sure that once he did, his nerves would finally subside.

It was strange to him that for so long, he hadn't wanted this, and now it was all he could think about. Marrying Elizabeth, being with her forever, and dancing with her to some stupid song he had never heard in front of a bunch of people he didn't like.

She froze a few feet away from him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she ducked her head like she often did when she was nervous. She wanted this as badly as he did; that much was obvious in her eyes, so instead of dragging things out and making them both a nervous mess, he slipped the ring box from his box and slid to his knee.

"Jason," she gasped, stumbling back on her feet, but she caught herself.

He grinned, rolling the small velvet box around in his hand, having prepared a speech a thousand times in his head, but suddenly it was gone. "Uh, I've been trying to do this all week," he confessed, scratching a finger across his brow. "I wanted it to be memorable and perfect, which never comes easy with us, but that's also why it's fun." He licked his lips as he shrugged. "Tonight, I was going to bring you here on the way home…to the first place we ever really made a commitment to one another. Well, one that's tied by law, I guess. It seemed appropriate."

She repeated his name and much to his surprise, dropped to her knees in front of him, and it would have been a relief had he not been hell bent on doing the whole down on one knee bit. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking away as her eyes filled with tears. "This – I messed everything up."

He swallowed hard, curious as to why she was crying before he'd put the ring on her finger. This wasn't' how it was supposed to happen, unless maybe she didn't want this anymore. "Elizabeth, if you don't want this," he said, starting to push himself back to his feet, but she grabbed his hands and pulled him back down.

"It's not that," she replied, blinking back tears as she linked their fingers together, one set of their hands carefully holding the ring box between them. "It's actually kind of funny." She forced a smile as she squeezed his hands. "You see…I knew – I knew that you were going to ask me to marry you."

"Oh," he grunted, arching his eyebrows and waiting for the part where he was supposed to laugh.

"And I just panicked," she continued, hanging her head in embarrassment. "I don't even know why. It's what I've wanted all along, what I've dreamed about. I knew when you started pestering me about that dish at the Metro Court, when you gave me the roses and I actually saw the ring box…Oh, God, Jason, I'm so sorry."

"I see," he murmured, taking a deep breath. "Where exactly am I supposed to laugh here?"

"Okay, so maybe it's not funny," she admitted, slowly lifting her eyes back to his.

"Not the slightest bit," he agreed, his jaw tightening. He wanted to get up, pull away, forget that he'd even bothered, but he couldn't do anything except look at her. "Why?"

"Why was I scared?" she asked, shrugging exhaustedly. "I don't even know." She bit her lip and scooted forward on her knees, letting out a shaky breath as she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. The touch was more comforting than he imagined and he couldn't resist slipping his arms around her waist, the ring box nestled against the small of her back. "I just freaked out. You didn't want to marry me before-"

"I thought we were passed-"

"We are," she interrupted, keeping her eyes on his. "The point is that you _didn't_ and now you do, and you've changed a big part of who you are for me, and what if you don't like it? What if I end up being the most terrible wife ever? I'm already a terrible girlfriend seeing as you couldn't even propose without me fucking it up. And all I'm going to do is make your life a complete and total wreck and out of everyone you could marry, all the other really good prospects, you're-"

"Will you shut up?" he cut in, lifting one of his hands to her face to cup her cheek.

"Jason!" she scolded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm trying to be honest-"

"I know…but just let me talk for a second, okay?" he asked, waiting until she nodded, and then suddenly he had no idea what to say.

Elizabeth Webber was the only woman who could make him come undone.

"I – I know that you're a mess. That you're annoying and loud and piss me off more times during the day than I can count," he said, cringing when she started to argue, so he hurried up and finished. "But I like that you're a mess and loud and annoying. You're worth being pissed off over and at and I wouldn't want anyone else to get under my skin the way you do."

"And we've already gone through all the ways you fall short," he added, hoping to remind her of the conversation they'd had before she moved in. "I know there are a lot-"

"Jason, nowNow you're just being an asshole," she interrupted, swatting him on the arm. He arched his eyebrows impatiently. "Okay, I'm shutting up, so you can insult me."

"You like when I insult you," he teased, his chest tightening when she smiled coyly. "The point is that – that I want you to drive me crazy for the rest of our lives. I want you to burn my dinners and bleached my colored clothes. To delete my shows off the TivoTiVo so you have room for the shitty things you watch and to bring me coffee that's as thick as oil every morning."

"You've lost your mind," she laughed, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I love you," he said seriously, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I love you more than…God, Elizabeth. I didn't even know love was until-" She cut him off by jerking him towards her, her mouth covering his, covering his mouth with hers, and swallowing anything he had left to say.

He groaned, his lips parting anxiously and seeking out the touch of her tongue, and he knew there would never be anything better than this. Her fingers curled into his lapels as she started to push him back, a newfound desire washing over the both of him, but Jason refused to let her get ahead of him.

"Wait," he ordered roughly, tearing his mouth from his as he gently shoved her away, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Stand up." She was still a little dazed from the kiss, so he repeated his command one more time, and she moved to her feet, standing shakily in front of him.

Grinning, she rested her hands on his shoulders. "Just ask me, Jason."

Nodding, he rolled the ring around in his hand, finally holding it between his thumb and forefinger as he stared up at her. "I've had this ring for a long time-"

"You've talked more tonight than you have the entire time-" She giggled, pursing her lips together. "Sorry."

Like he expected anything less.

"This ring – it was given to me a long time ago, and I was told to give it to someone special. Secretly, a part of me always wanted to give it to you because you are the only person who could ever understand what it really means," he said, carefully opening the box and turning it to face her.

"Jason," she breathed, reaching out to touch the ring with her fingertip. "It's Lila's."

He nodded, relieved that she had remembered it, though he had no doubt she would. It was the only item his late grandma had left to him, along with a note about what the ring meant to her and why she wanted him to have it. She'd left orders that he give it to someone special, someone he loved, and someone who would cherish him. Sure, women liked jewelry, especially diamonds, but he couldn't give this ring to just anyone, which is why he'd always thought about Elizabeth.

With a shaky finger, he slipped the ring from the box and took Elizabeth's hand in his, his eyes never leaving her face. "Marry me, Elizabeth."

"That sounds more like an order," she teased, dropping her gaze to the ring as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Groaning, he glared playfully, unable to breathe when she nodded slowly, then faster, and finally let out a shrieking yes. Their bodies fused together instantly, Jason springing from the floor to pull her into his arms, their lips parting long enough for him to gently slide the ring onto her finger. She grinned softly as she admired the ring on her hand and he was relieved that it fit perfectly after having it resized.

"Jason," she murmured, pulling back long enough to rest her forehead against his again and look him straight in the eye. "I love you."

"I love you so much," he replied, brushing his lips against hers.

"You're not mad at me?' she asked, nibbling her lip. "You know for ruining all the other…"

"Oh, you'll be making up for that," he replied smugly, spinning her around in such a hurry that she stumbled back against the window.

Just like he'd hope.

"In fact, I think you could start right now," he teased, pressing her back up against the glass window as he kissed her again, his hands undoing the buttons on her coat.

"You're terrible," she hissed, closing her eyes as her head fell back against the glass, his mouth making its way to her neck, where he sucked long and hard. "Lucky for you…" She paused to catch her breath, roughly raking her fingers through his hair. "I don't think I've ever wanted you more than I do now."

"Mmm." He groaned his approval against her neck when she pressed her body against his, her hips bucking wildly, and he knew there would never be anyone else that was turned on by just his mouth.

Ha.

Actually there would never be anyone else again _period_, and that made his pride swell more smugly than he thought possible.

She was his.

He was hers.

And nothing else would ever matter.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, laughing against her neck as he striped her coat over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"I was asleep," she groaned, shoving his own jacket over his shoulders and going to work on his buttons. "So I just…Oh!" She cried out, clutching his shirt as he slipped a hand into her pants.

No underwear.

Not like he should be surprised.

"Looks like you forgot to put something on," he whispered, nipping her earlobe as he undid her jeans and eased the zipper down so he could pay the appropriate amount of attention to her. She swore when his finger traced her slit a few times, and then abandoned her to shove her jeans to her feet. Hurrying, she kicked off her shoes and shoved the clothing aside.

"I was hurrying," she panted, growing frustrated with his shirt, so she just jerked the fabric apart, the buttons pinging across the floor. "We have to remember to pick those up."

"Good luck with that," he growled, shrugging his shirt over his shoulders and tossing it the floor.

Quickly, he whipped her t-shirt over her head and flung it behind him, wrapping his arms around her and pressing holding her against him. There was no greater feeling than the touch of her skin against his. It was the sweetest, most tender friction that existed, and he'd never grow tired of it. She moaned against his mouth as her breasts rubbed against his chest, their mouths fused together.

"Jason," she hissed, her back arching away from the window when he pressed her against it, his hands skimming over her nude body.

Goosebumps appeared as she shivered, torn between pushing herself away from the chilly glass and letting him have his way with her. Passion one out and she reached for him, pulling his mouth to hers as she dropped her hands to the snap of his pants.

She slipped a hand into his pants just like he had her, shivering again, this time from the heat that she held in her hand. Her touch was like liquid fire, each stroke drawing out more pleasure than he thought was possible. Satisfied when she pumped him enough her hand, forcing him to swear and lose focus, his hands planted firmly against the glass on either side of her head as she stroked him, she finally withdrew, his lips parting in a groan of firm disapproval.

Swearing again, he hung his head as she shoved his pants down, stopping long enough to grab his wallet and fish out the condom she knew was inside, and even that only took her a few seconds. Her hands skimmed over his backside, fingers curling into him as she pulled him against her, gasping when he rocked against her, his desire hard and rough between her legs.

Jason dropped his face to her neck, nuzzling her hair away to kiss her as she tore the foil wrapper open, his hips bucking as she carefully, but quickly, rolled it on. He resisted the urge to jerk her legs apart and thrust forward, at least until she raked her nails up his thighs and wrapped a slender leg around his waist. Pulling back, he swept his eyes over her, grinning at the determined pout of her lips as she wiggled against him. Most nights, he would have dragged this part out, enjoying how easy fun it was to tease her and pull deep, throaty moans from her lips, but tonight, he just couldn't.

Skimming his hand up the leg that was wrapped around him, he settled his hand at her hip, the other planted against the window as she dropped a hand between their legs, aligning their bodies. With a quick snap of the hips, he buried himself inside her, both letting out contented sighs as they fell into one another.

And then suddenly all desire to be rushed faded away. Just being inside her was enough to tide him over until he had teased her relentlessly – besides, when else would he have the opportunity to do her against the wide window of the second floor of her gallery?

Ha.

She probably hadn't even thought about it. Or maybe she had a. And she liked the possibility of being seen. Or maybe she just didn't care."

"Jason," she whispered raggedly, stretching on her tiptoes and lowering herself back onto him. "Please."

He gave into her request, his thrusts quick and steady, slowing his pace as he ducked his head, and dragged his tongue across the tops of her breasts. Dropping his hand from the window, he traced the curve of her side with a slender fingertip, cupping her breast in his hand as he raked his teeth and tongue over the other. Her head fell back against the window, her back arching as he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

Repeating his name, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, one digging into the firm muscle, the other raking through his hair and holding his mouth against her. Eventually, his mouth traced a lazy path to her neck, tonguing the fine curve of her neck, and finally settled at her mouth, taking her plump lips in his. He continued to stroke her breasts, molding them in his hands, the hard peaks tightening against his palm.

She kissed him as hard he touched her, tongue swirling forcefully around his, stopping only to nip his lip and sometimes catch her breath. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling the short spikes as she twisted against him, every ounce of her body reacting to his touch. She clenched around him, causing his hips to jerk, and when his thrusts remained slow and steady, she did it again, causing him to groan against her hips.

Resting his forehead on hers, he skimmed his fingers down her arms to take her hands, linking their fingers together, and quickly presseding them against the glass. She clenched around him again and again, and he swore, knowing he was going to have it give in. He shifted to hold her wrists in one hand, dropping the other to her hip as he pulled out and slammed into her hard. A throaty gasp burst from her lips, her body trembling, but he knew he hadn't hurt her.

Their foreheads still together, her eyes lit up as she smiled softly. "Again."

Each time he pulled out and slammed into her, she demanded more – _again and harder_ – and he gave it to her until finally he couldn't wait any longer. He slipped a hand between them, touching her lightly, and she bucked, tossing her head aside. Quickly, he wrapped his other hand around her neck, forcing her to look at him as he touched her, his thrusts faster and faster. Her nails dug into his skin as she moaned and tried to look away, but he wouldn't let her.

When he touched her a little harder, she cried out, the sound echoing off the walls around them as her release came over her. Her eyes lit up, soft and surprised, but then darkened, becoming hazy as she rode it out, and it was one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen.

He dropped his hand from her neck to the window as he continued to move, his own release coming right behind hers. She stopped him when he started to fall forward and bury his face in her neck; cupping his face in her hand and making him look at her. She grinned, tightly clenching around him, her eyes dark as she watched intently when his body jerked and he raggedly called out her name. Falling against her, he buried his face in her neck, his arms wrapping around her, and she curled against him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

When he finally started to come down, he pulled back to look at her, and she grinned, her cheeks flushing as she was caught staring at the ring on her left hand. He brushed his lips against her mouth, and heand then drew her hand to his lips, kissing her palm, her fingertip, the back of her hand, and lastly the ring.

"Mrs. Morgan," he teased, kissing her hand again before leaning forward to kiss her mouth.

"Or Mr. Webber," she murmured, laughing when he noticeably cringed.

"Uh…no," he said firmly, lowering her leg to the floor as he slipped out of her, and she just laughed again, too happy to argue. He turned away to dispose of the condom and when he looked back Elizabeth was standing with her back to him, her arms folded over her chest as she stared at the window.

So, she _had_ known exactly what they were doing, and for some reason, that just made him love her more.

"You okay?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist as he stepped up behind her.

She nodded, linking her hands in his, and he couldn't stop himself from staring over her shoulder at the ring on her hand. "Do you think anyone…saw?"

Chuckling, he kissed her shoulder. "Isn't that what makes it fun?"

"Oh, you're just awful," she laughed, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"Actually," Jason murmured, craning his neck as he looked out the window. "_He_ may have seen."

"Who?" she asked, inching her way towards the window and gasping. "A cop?"

Elizabeth just glared at him when he laughed, and he shrugged as they watched the officer stop next to car, and pull out a pad. "Someone's getting a ticket," he muttered, grinning at the idea of them being caught.

He didn't really know why it was so funny – or such a turn on. If someone watched them having sex in the privacy of a wide opened gallery, they were the weird ones, not them.

Right?

"Shit," Elizabeth hissed, pulling out of his arms and hurrying to gather up her clothes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, watching her jerk her shirt over her head.

"That's my car!" she cried, shaking out her pants as he looked down at the street.

"Looks like someone parked in a handicapped spot," he scolded, reaching out to grab her before she could pull her pants. "Do you really want to go out there?"

"I need to at least move-"

"And if he did see us, he'll know-"

"Jason," she interrupted, letting her pants fall to the floor.

"Not going outside now, huh?" he asked, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Which is exactly what you want," she replied, not fighting him when he tugged her shirt back over her head.

"I'll tell you what I want," he murmured, shuffling her towards the blanket in the middle of the room. She arched an eyebrow, her eyes darkeninglips curving in a sexy grin. "On your hands and knees, Webber."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

"You got out of bed," Jason grumbled into his pillow, one eye peeking open as Elizabeth set a mug of coffee on his nightstand.

"As much as I'd like to," she murmured, easing herself down beside him, "I cannot stay in bed all day and neither can you."

Against their wishes, Johnny and Lulu were throwing them a small engagement party, which seemed a little rushed since they'd just gotten engaged. Jason had to remind her Elizabeth that they'd been _engaged_ before, but thankfully their best friends had been off on their honeymoon, and by the time they returned, the excitement had dimmed about their engagement. Honestly, Elizabeth was a little touched by their friends, mostly because this it was real this time around, and she wanted to be able to enjoy it as much as possible.

He mumbled incoherently and buried his face in the pillow; the exact kind of reaction she was expecting. She couldn't blame him. After spending several days hiding in the penthouse, mostly in their bedroom, nothing sounded worse than having to leave.

"You got dressed," he muttered, rolling onto his back as he yawned.

"Lulu called," she explained, shaking her head at the nudity policy he'd also forced them to adopt during their hiding.

Grinning, he pulled himself up against the headboard and reached for his coffee, and she knew he was laughing at her inability to talk to Lulu while naked. Something about it just made her feel dirty. Elizabeth wouldn't bother to put on clothes for her own mother – if the woman actually ever bothered to call, but Lulu was different.

Lulu was pseudo-mother, which was so much worse for some reason.

"It's alright," he shrugged, sniffing the coffee before taking a tiny sip. He grimaced, swallowing and swallowed anyway, earning bonus points from Elizabeth for not commenting on how terrible it tasted. "We need to make a short trip out anyway."

His eyes fell to the empty box of condoms that were sitting next to another empty box of condoms on the nightstand. "If this is what being engaged is like, I don't even want to think about the honeymoon," Elizabeth teased, stretching out beside him after he scooted over and made room for her tiny form next to him.

It wasn't much room, but she knew that was the point. She was marrying a horny, manwhore – _her_ manwhore – and, and she loved it.

"One word for that," he said, arching his eyebrow as he stretched over her to put the coffee back on the nightstand. She knew he wasn't going to drink, but figured it was worth a shot. His hand smoothed over her back, slipping beneath her short, flimsy road to rest on her bare bottom.

"What's that?" she asked, propping her head in against her hand.

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. "Italy," he murmured, and she wondered if the country's name had ever sounded that sexynever sounding sexier.

"Really?" she breathed, her chest tightening at the thought. Excitement came over her in such a rush that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"We could go to the typical, warm vacation spot," he said nonchalantly, rolling his head from side to side as he pondered the thought.

"Uh-uh," she grunted, scooting close enough to throw one of her legs over her his waist and rest her chin on his chest. "I burn."

"Sun block," he suggested, his fingers dancing up her spine beneath her shit.

"I can't swim," she half-lied; technically she could doggy paddle. That was only going to come in handy for so long, and she imagined if they found themselves trapped in the middle of the ocean and having to tread water, she'd grow tired very fast. "And I hate sand," she added for good measure. "Not to mention that I have to two perfectly good tickets to go to Italy."

"You can't use those for the honeymoon," he said, his hand slipping from beneath her shirt robe to rest against the small of her back. She always knew Jason was getting serious when he tried to prevent any possibly distractions like touching her.

Of course, when she wanted to get serious, he just couldn't keep his hands off her.

"Why not?" she asked, lifting her head up from his chest. "It would be a waste otherwise, Jason."

"Those tickets are so you can go whenever you want," he replied, and she almost wanted to wring his neck.

It was her honeymoon. When else would she want to go _that_ bad?

"You're being ridiculous," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You bought me those tickets. I want to use them for the honeymoon. We _will_ use them for the honeymoon." He started to argue, which pissed her off even more. She pushed herself up and onto her knees. "Do you seriously expect us to just buy two more tickets to Italy when you've already bought and paid for a set?"

He shook his head, and she was relieved that he wasn't that much of an idiot. "No, I'll buy two more tickets to Italy," he corrected, reminding her that sometimes he was that much of an idiot.

"And I guess you're going to insist to payon paying for the entire wedding too?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief when he nodded again. "If you insist on doing that then – then wwe're just going to…elope."

"What?" Rubbing a hand exhaustedly over his face, he sat up. "You're insane."

"It makes sense," she argued, folding her arms over her chest. "We can have a wedding and a honeymoon in one, since you're not going to take a dime of my money."

"Weddings are expensive," he shrugged, grimacing the moment the words left his mouth.

"I know that," she said, not sure why she was getting so mad when he seemed to be so at ease about all of this. "I've been thinking about it a lot the past couple of days." A devious grin spread across his face as he arched his eyebrow, pointing out that she hadn't had much time to really be thinking.

Ha.

That's he thought.

It was amazing all the things a woman could accomplish during sex.

Especially when on their knees.

If he only knew the lists she made.

Ha.

Jerk.

"I have," she insisted, refusing to explain exactly how she went about her list making because then he'd probably be appalled. Like every man, he probably thought she was enjoying herself while she was down there.

God, he was so dumb.

"You may have more money than me," she started, the whole topic of conversation making her feel uneasy, "but I'm not going to use that to my advantage. I don't want some lavish, expensive wedding. I know that with a combined budget we need something small and maybe a little thrifty."

"You may not want an expensive wedding," he replied, leaning forward to take her hand and pull her into his arms. She tried to resist, but it was impossible when he was all bare-chested and giving her the sexy eye. "But you don't want something thrifty either."

"I want to contribute," she said firmly, settling into the crook of his arm. "You know how hard this whole money thing is for me." He nodded, gently running his fingers up and down her arm. "You can't expect to just throw me the checkbook to pay for everything for the rest of our lives."

Sighing, he contemplated replies before ducking his head to meet her eye. "No, sometimes you can throw it at me."

"Jason!" she groaned, smacking him in the chest. "Be serious."

"I am," he said, reaching for her left hand and pointedly smoothing his hand thumb over the diamond ring. "I want to give you the wedding of your dreams, Elizabeth. I saw you when you planned Lulu's. You knew details about every little thing, so I know that you've already planned your own wedding. And I don't care if it's pricey or out of whatever budget you've created. Just let me give this to you."

God, he was looking at her with that perfect mouth and those soft lips, and she just hated him. She couldn't melt every single time he looked at her this way for the rest of their lives.

She just _couldn't_.

Shit.

"Jason…"

"Let's make a deal," he suggested, carefully linking their fingers together.

"Always the business man," she murmured, smiling to herself at the sight of the ring on her finger. It was ridiculous how one piece of jewelry could make her feel so alive, so in love, and so happy about her future.

"If you let me pay for the wedding," he said, staring her in the eye, "we'll use your tickets for Italy."

God, he was giving her that look again.

He was going to be the death of her.

Did it even matter that he'd actually paid for those tickets, so technically he was still paying for everything?

"You really want to do that?" she asked, wondering if she'd ever get used to someone who _wanted_ to give her everything she ever dreamed about.

"I do," he replied, shifting her in his arms so he could kiss her gently, sealing their deal without her even having to agree. "Now…" He sat back against the headboard, one hand still linked to hers as the other skimmed up and down her side. "Tell me about this wedding I'm spending loads of money on."

"Jason!" she scolded, poking him in the ribs.

"Seriously," he murmured, nuzzling the side of her face, his warm breath causing her to shiver. "Tell me about the wedding."

She curled against his side, burying her face in his chest as her cheeks flushed, not sure why the idea of telling him what she wanted made her feel so embarrassed. He was right; she'd known her entire life – well, since she was around five-years-old – exactly how she wanted her wedding to be.

"Start with food," he suggested, easing her along. "And I don't just mean a chocolate fountain."

"There are champagne fountains too," she said, laughing when swore under his breath. "I don't know…lots of cheeses and fruits. Some really good bread. Nice little appetizer things…Really, the food was the least of my worries."

"You just wanted the fountain," he teased, grinning against her messy curls.

"Which I realize is sort of stupid now," she replied seriously, tipping her head back to look up at him. "I've never really thought about the menu. I know I'll be too nervous to eat. And I'll be in a white dress, so I am not going anywhere near that damn fountain, which is why our cake will be white on white. I'm taking no chances with my dress."

"So…you still have the dressed?" He sounded nervous, and she briefly wondered what he would say if she said no, that she had given _the_ dress back, but now wasn't the time for joking around.

"Yeah," she said softly., lifting her head to look up at him. "I wanted to take it back. I probably would have, but Johnny stopped me."

"At least he's good for something," Jason murmured, giving her an apologetic smile, and she was relieved when he didn't go into everything that had happened.

He may have crushed her heart several months ago, but he'd done a damn good job of fixing it.

"So, we have the dress, the cake, the _start_ of a menu," he said, returning to the task at hand. "That leaves…song?"

"Definitely not REO Speedwagon." She laughed when his face turned red, deciding there was nothing more adorable than embarrassing her fiancé.

Ha.

Her fiancé.

This was so fucking insane.

"Something classy," she said seriously, going through possibilities in her head. "Like Frank Sinatra or Etta James. Maybe even Michael Buble if we want to stick with the timeswant something classy, but modern." He just looked at her. "I love that you don't listen to music. It's endearing."

"Oh, shut up," he huffed, his face reddening all over again.

She settled back into his arms, going through each of his questions; flowers, table settings, guests (family was definitely _not_ invited), colors, even fonts – he knew her so well. It was ridiculous that she had picked each of those things, first and second favorites just in case one of the options wasn't available, but she refused to settle for anything less.

"One last thing – or two," he said, staring at her intently. "Probably the two most important." He squeezed her hand and brushed his lips against her forehead. "First, a date."

"And here I thought you were going to say the bachelor and bachelorette parties," she murmured, narrowing her eyes at him. "No strippers."

"Oh, God," he groaned, his head falling back against the headboard.

"I mean it, Morgan," she insisted, jabbing him in the ribs again. "And I'm only saying that because I know you don't want me to have strippers."

"No," he grunted, causing her to laugh when he glared at her. "Besides, I don't want to see anyone else naked."

"Good," she sighed, settling back in his arms. "Now about this date business."

"Soon," he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. "Because I really just want to go to Italy."

"You're such a brat," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "How soon depends on where we get married, and if you wouldn't have said no to eloping, we could be on our way to Italy in a few hours."

"So where?" he asked, ignoring her comments.

She knew a part of him was far too traditional to ever elope, even if it meant gambling and drinking as he walked down the strip.

"I don't know," she shrugged, squirming in his arms.

"Yeah, you do," he said, slipping his hand beneath her robe t-shirt again. Like she could think about her wedding location when his fingertips were grazing her bare thigh. "Where? The location is the most important part. Almost as important as the dress and the groom."

"Have you been reading those wedding magazines?" she laughed, surprised by how familiar his statement sounded.

"No," he replied, squeezing her thigh and causing her to let out a soft yelp. "You said it all the time when you were helping Lulu." She nodded, and he squeezed her thigh again, and she wished he would realized that wasn't helping. "Where do you want to get married, Elizabeth?"

"Queen of Angels," she answered seriously, knowing he wouldn't ask her why, but she felt like she had to tell him anyway. "The church is so beautiful inside and out. And they have such beautiful gardens, and they'll let you put up tents for a wedding, and it's just gorgeous in the spring…Also, my parents were married there."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, not that she could blame him, because it wasn't like her to do anything involving them.

"When I was a kid, there was this photograph of my parents that always set on the mantle," she explained, turning in his arms so she could look up at him. "It was from their wedding day, from those gardens, and they just looked so happy. I know this is going to sound really stupid, but I remember being five or six and thinking that if I could just get married there, that maybe for at least that moment, I could be that happy too."

"That's not stupid," he replied softly, his lips curving in a gentle smile as he leaned forward to touch them to hers. "And I promise you that you're going to be that happy, and not just for a momentfor more than just that moment." She sighed, battingbatted her lashes when her eyes glistened,glistened; torn between loving or hating that suddenly being a fiancé had turned her into the most ridiculous girl of all time. "Like it or not, yYou're going to be happy forever."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"Oh, Elizabeth, your ring is absolutely gorgeous," Lulu cooed, clutching Elizabeth's hand in hers and holding it up to display the modest diamond for all the other women on her back patio.

Elizabeth didn't know who many of them were, but assumed most were friends Lulu had made through the charities she worked on for General Hospital. Sad, wasn't it? Lulu had been in Port Charles in less than a year and she had far more friends than Elizabeth ever had in the small town.

"It's beautiful," one of the women commented, while the author other leaned over as if inspecting it up close for scratches or signs of cubic zirconium.

Grunting to herself, she straightened up and looked at Elizabeth curiously, provoking the brunette to question the smugness on her face. "What?" Elizabeth asked, tipping her head towards her. "Is something not to your standards?"

Placing a hand on her chest, she scoffed and arched her eyebrows. "That's Lila Quartermaine's ring."

"It is," she confirmed, scolding herself for not realizing that these women worked at the hospital, some probably even close to Jason's parents – the parents he had nothing to do with. "She left it to Jason in her will."

"Oh, I would have thought Edward would have wanted to keep something like that in the family," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as she took a sip of she sipped her red wine.

"It is in the family that Lila wanted it to be in," Elizabeth pointed out, leaning over and jabbing the woman's ring finger. "Oh, I see what the real problem is." She straightened and gave her a wide smile as she looked her in the face. "You don't even have a ring."

"Elizabeth," Lulu sighed exhaustedly, following after her as she turned around on her heels and stalked into the house, wanting something stronger than a glass of wine.

This is why Lulu O'Brien should never throw parties for people.

Leave it to that damn woman to be friends with the kind of people Jason and Elizabeth couldn't stand.

"Elizabeth, slow down," Lulu murmured, weaving in between guests as she tried to keep up with the angry brunette.

Elizabeth ignored her, not giving a damn if her friend was upset or if she pissed off some prissy bitch.

After all, it was her party, so she could do what she wanted.

"I'm so sorry," Lulu said, catching up with Elizabeth as she went into the study on the lower floor of their house, the one Johnny used as an office on days he didn't want to go into work.

"It's fine," she shrugged, walking behind his desk and leaning over to open the bottom drawer on the right side. "It's not your fault that your friends are a bunch of society assholes, who. They only came today so they can run back to Alan and Monica and tell them all about how I was flashing Lila's ring, and that they better be careful or I might come after some of that old Quartermaine money."

"I doubt that's the _only_ reason they came," Lulu replied, shaking her head as Elizabeth opened another drawer. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for liquor," she answered, slamming a drawer shut, knowing that somewhere in this room there was a perfectly good bottle of scotch waiting to be opened. "And it's exactly why they came. I know you work with them, and they're your friends, but they'd do anything to get in good with the Quartermaines. Most people in town would."

"Well, maybe Alan and Monica would like to know that Jason and youyou and Jason are getting married," Lulu said, turning around and walking over to the bookshelves that lined the wall.

"Jason wouldn't want them there," Elizabeth replied seriously, frustrated when she didn't find any alcoholcouldn't find the damn liquor.

She looked up from the desk to see Lulu poking around on the bookshelf and stopping when she came to a specific title, one Elizabeth couldn't quite make out from so far away. Lulu sighed as she fanned through the book, slipping a tiny silver key from within the pages. "But they are his parents. You can't fault them for wanting to know how he's doing. Sadly, this is probably the only way they know what's going on in his life." She paused as she moved down the bookshelf to a square wooden box with a lock. "Remember Edward's quote in the paper? He was ecstatic that you two were getting married."

"It's complicated," Elizabeth shrugged, sinking down into Johnny's leather desk chair as Lulu pulled the very bottle of scotch she'd been looking for from the box.

"He does still hide the good stuff," she said sneakily, fumbling with the cap as she walked back over to the desk. Once it was off, she held the bottle out to Elizabeth, urging her to take a sip.

Normally, Lulu would have been against doing such a thing – drinking straight from a bottle, not to mention stealing liquor, but she clearly understood how upset Elizabeth was over that woman. She also probably preferred that Elizabeth drink the scotch instead of her husband. Or maybe she stole a nip or two every now and then for herself.

Ha.

If only.

Shivering as she swallowed the warm liquid, Elizabeth leaned forward and set the bottle back on the desk. "I love Alan and Monica. I know that deep down they are good people who love their son, but they weren't very nice to Jason after the accident. They wanted him to be Jason Quartermaine, the next ELQ CEO, and when he did things his own way, they hated it."

"Well, I can understand that," Lulu said, sitting down on the edge of the desk and eyeing the liquor bottle.

Elizabeth took another sip before passing the bottle to her. "Just take a drink, Lulu," she ordered, smiling to herself when the blonde hesitantly brought the bottle to her lips.

There was still hope for this woman.

Satisfied when Lulu took a drinkshe did, Elizabeth rocked back in the desk chair and looked up at her. "The Quartermaines weren't like your family. They weren't happy that Jason was alive and happy. They still see the son they lost."

"Maybe they've had time to process it by now," Lulu suggested, cringing when Elizabeth scowled.

"I don't think you understand how ugly things were between them." She held out her hand for the bottle, taking another long sip before giving it back to Lulu. "Johnny and I almost lost Jason because of them. Besides we've talked about it, he doesn't want them there, and I can't blame him."

"Don't you think it's bad to carry those kinds of feelings around?" Lulu asked, coughing after she tried to take a sip as big as Elizabeth's.

It was endearing really.

"That's the thing," she replied, reaching for the bottle. "I don't think Jason has hard feelings. I think he understands why his parents acted the way they did. He knows, especially now, how hard it was for everyone to let go of Jason Quartermaine, but the Quartermaines will always want him to be the CEO oif their company, to carry their family name. He's happier without that stress."

"What about you?" Lulu asked quietly, smoothing her hands over her pleated skirt. "You were close to them, weren't you?"

"Yeah," she nodded, taking another swig from the bottle. "Really close. My parents and I never got along. I lived with my grandmother and my sister, but the Quartermaines were like my real family."

Sighing, Elizabeth took another drink, wishing there was some way for Lulu to understand how complicated all of this way. She knew what had happened was hard on Alan and Monica. They loved their son, but they basically gave up on him the moment he became Jason Morgan.

"Our wedding day should be a happy one," Elizabeth added, passing the bottle back to her. "It should be about the future, not the past."

"Does this mean you aren't inviting your family either?" Lulu asked, nestling the bottle in her lap having had enough liquor. A few more sips and she'd pass out on the floor, leaving Elizabeth to go and entertain the crowd, and neither of them wanted that.

"I haven't spoken to my parents in a long time." It was strange that she didn't feel sad when she thought about it. "My grandmother and I were close, but she passed away."

"Your sister?" Lulu pried, tapping her finger on the top of the bottle.

"Sarah and I haven't spoken since right after Jason's accident," Elizabeth said firmly, knowing from her tone that Lulu wasn't going to press any further. Lulu wouldn't understand the strength of a sisterly bond or how much it hurt when it was broken, and it wasn't something Elizabeth was ready for her to try and give excuses for. "She would will _never_ be invited to _our_ wedding."

"I see," the blonde murmured, dropping her gaze to her lap and looking up a few seconds later with a smile. Thank God, Lulu was the type of person to recover quickly from an awkward moment. "Well, you have me and Johnny and…it's like you said when he and I were engaged, we have a family in you and Jason, and you have a family in us." Shrugging, she took another sip of the scotch and cleared her throat, her cheeks reddening as she spoke. "So…fuck 'em."

"That's it," Elizabeth replied, pushing herself up from the chair and snatching the bottle. She could handle Lulu being all mushy and girly in the stupidest of ways, but the swearing was just too much. "You've had enough. Time to get back to your hostess duties, you drunkard."

**********

Clearing his throat, Jason tightened his hands on the steering wheel as he looked over to see Elizabeth smoothing her thumb over her engagement ring, a tired frown on her face. The quiet party hadn't been as bad as he thought it was going to be. Mostly the men ribbed him for finally settling down; joking about him being whipped and in love, comments that he actually didn't mind considering most of the men were married themselves.

Elizabeth had stayed with Lulu and her group of friends for most of the party, and when she reappeared at his side towards the end of the evening, he couldn't help but notice her inebriated glow, and she'd be quiet ever since.

He cleared his throat again. "The party wasn't too bad." Elizabeth continued to fiddle with her ring, sighing heaving heavily as she leaned back against her seat. "Or was it?" Still nothing.

Thankfully theThe upcoming light turned red and he reached over as he slowed down the car. Elizabeth jumped, finally snapping to attention. "Are you okay?" he asked, slipping his hand over hers.

"Yeah," she nodded, leaning back against the headrest, her lashes fluttering closed. "Tired." She grimaced, her eyes snapping back open. "You were talking to me, weren't you?"

"Uh, huh," he replied, grinning at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, turning her hand over beneath his to link their fingers together. "It's just…" She shook her head as she looked at him. "Every time Lulu has a party, I leave feeling so fucked up."

"Lulu just has that effect on people," he teased, squeezing her hand.

"I like her so much when she's by herself, but those stuffy bitches – light's red…" She trailed off as he lowered his foot on the gas, picking back up when she he looked over at himher again. "One of them noticed my ring, so I just know they are going to go back to your – to Alan and Monica…"

"Ah," he sighed, narrowing his eyes as he stared through the windshield.

His parents were always a sore subject for him and Elizabeth. One, because he felt like they'd turned his back on him when he needed them most. They wanted Jason Quartermaine, not Jason Morgan. And two, because the Quartermaines were so important to Elizabeth, and she gave up her relationship with them to hold onto her friendship with him, in turn losing a big part of her family.

"I tried to explain how things are with them to Lulu, but she just didn't get it," Elizabeth muttered, half slurring her words.

"Get what?" he asked, though he was pretty sure he had a good idea.

It was only natural for a wedding to make them people rethink their relationships with their families, especially when a wedding centered around families coming together, but their situation was very different.

"Why Alan and Monica won't be invited, why my parents won't come," she explained, sounding much sadder than he thought she would.

"Do you want them there?" he asked thickly, trying to hide how much the idea upset him.

He'd gone over this situation time and time again in his head, but he always came back to the same resolution. His parents should have accepted him regardless of who he was, and he wasn't going to subject himself to people who would always want who he used to be, not when he had people who always wanted him for who he was.

"Do you?" she asked softly, nibbling her lip as she looked at him.

He glanced over as he slowed down at a stop sign. "The only person I need there is you."

Laughing, she rolled her eyes. "That's a textbook answer, Morgan."

"It's the truth," he replied, squeezing her hand again as he turned onto their street. "You can invite whoever you want to the wedding. I'm not going to care as long as you're there."

"You avoided my question," she teased, still rolling her eyes at his somewhat mushy answer, but this was all her fault.

She was the one who had made him so damn mushy.

He hesitated as he turned into the parking garage of their building. Honestly, if Elizabeth wanted the Quartermaines at their wedding, then they could come. "If you want-"

"What do you want?" she asked seriously, sounding more sober by the second.

Sighing, he steered the car into a parking space and leaned back in his seat. "I don't want them there, Elizabeth."

She nodded slowly, not surprised by his answer. "Then they won't come."

"If you want-"

"I just want to marry you," she interrupted, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning across the seat. "It's our day."

"Your day," he corrected, not caring about anything except Elizabeth getting what she wanted.

And if they had to have a wedding and a reception, well, it only seemed fit that the people who had been there for them were invited. The Quartermaines chose differently, just like her parents did.

"Ours," she insisted, stretching to press her lips against his.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking her in the eye for the slightest hint of hesitation. "You can invite your family and mine and-"

"We agreed on no families from the start," Elizabeth interrupted, arching her eyebrow as she reached across his lap, her hand reaching slipping over the side of the seat. "And really, you're the only person I need there too – well, Johnny and Lulu because they'd never let us live it down. And you have to invite all those crazy men from work who will empty out the bar at the reception…" She trailed off, grinning as she found the right button and his seat slid backwards.

She shifted to slide her leg across his waist to straddle him and nearly fell, nearly falling between the seats. He slid his arm around her waist and helped her into his lap, sucking in a breath when she started to hike up her skirt. "Elizabeth," he murmured, shaking his head as she leaned forward to kiss him, her hands working on undoing his belt.

She hissed into his mouth when his hands skimmed up her thighs, finding nothing but bare skin. He was starting to wonder why she spent so much damn money on underwear she never wore.

"Don't act so surprised, Morgan," she laughed, gently brushing her mouth to hisher lips brushing over his as she spoke. "You should be used to it by now."

Grunting, he gripped the hem of her blouse, breaking their kiss long enough to pull it over her head, their lips immediately finding one another again.

She _always_ surprised him.

"Jesus, Elizabeth," he groaned, as she undid his jeans and jerked his hips up from the seat to shove his pants down just a bit, somehow managing to slip his wallet from his back pocket along the way.

She leaned back against the steering wheel as she fanned through the wallet for a condom, her hips bucking as his hands skimmed over her, but she took over control seconds later as she rolled the condom on, and lifted herself onto him.

And he found himself thinking that this was what he was going to be doing for the rest of his life.

Married life wasn't going to be bad at all.


	29. Chapter 29

_AN: I probably flubbed some of this stuff, but it's because I'm not Catholic and I just googled. Hopefully you aren't surprised by their dirty antics. :P Enjoy! Also, I don't know why when I upload, it's saving one that's not edited or whatever. It's starting to drive me crazy, but I'm sure you guys don't mind. _

**Chapter 29 **

Elizabeth was finding wedding planning surprisingly easy. She'd seen even plenty of reality shows and read stories in magazines about the horrors of planning a wedding and how stressful it was, especially when she had given herself such a short deadline.

If all went as planned, in six weeks she would be Mrs. Jason Morgan. Unless she had her way and he became Mr. Elizabeth MorganWebber.

Ha.

Like that was going to happen.

But it was funny to think about.

Her fiancé was surprisingly understanding about everything from the stacks of mock invitations to the food tastings she'd set up at several restaurants. Jason seemed to be taking everything in stride,He was never getting annoyed when she asked him about colors or food or what kind of tablecloths they should have on their tablesuse. Maybe it was the business man in him, but he really seemed to really pay attention to her questions, answering each one patiently, and not even blinking when she bucked his choice a few hours later.

She was learning – a, as today would definitely prove – that , Jason Morgan was a very incredibly man, which made her a very lucky woman.

"You look nervous," Elizabeth said, looking over the top of the car at Jason as he got out, his already nervously tugging at his tiehand tugging at his tie.

He shut his car door and leaned against it, frowning heavily at Elizabeth in a way that made her wonder if this wasn't a good idea at all. It was bad enough that Jason disliked suits and ties and dress shoes, and now she was going to subject him to the prying eyes and questions of a priest at Queen of Angels.

"Do we really have to do this?" he asked, groaning under his breath as he walked around the car.

"Unfortunately," she replied, forcing a smile as she held out her hand to him. "It should be quick and painless…I hope." She hesitated as his hand slipped into hers and she realized how incredibly sweaty it was. Jason wasn't just nervous; he was terrified. "If you don't want to do this, we don't have to."

"You want to get a married at Queen of Angels," he reminded her, squeezing her hand as they rounded the corner of the parking lot to the front of the church.

"Yes," she admitted, knowing that it was silly to want to get married in the same place that her parents had, especially when considering she didn't even talk to them, but she wanted it almost as much as she wanted to marry Jason.

"And the only way we can get married here is if we meet with the priest," he muttered, looking skeptically at the front of the building.

"Yes," she said, nibbling her lip as she watched him closely. He looked ready to bail at any the first possible second. "Johnny did this for Lulu, and if that man can get past a priest…"

Jason shrugged as they started up the steps to the building, and while Elizabeth hated that he was doing something he absolutely did _not_ want to do, she loved him even more for it.

She hadn't thought about this moment when she mentioned Queen of Angels, and when she called the church to inquire about the wedding, the priest had been delighted to hear from a Webber, so much in fact that he wanted to meet with her and her fiancé immediately. She tried to finagle a way out of the meeting, mostly for Jason's sake, but the priest wouldn't budge.

After all, it was tradition in the Catholic Church.

Elizabeth was raised Catholic, thanks to her grandmother, but she hadn't stepped in a church in years aside from weddings and christenings, and the same could be said for Jason. Religion was never something they rarely discussed. Sure, they both believed in God (or something bigger that existed) and they liked to think that there was a place where people went once when they died, but other than that, they never went into much detail.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Elizabeth asked, leaning against him as he pulled open the front door of the building.

"Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?" he teased, grinning widely to himself as they stepped into the building.

"Jason," she hissed, her cheeks reddening. "We're in a church. Behave yourself." He just arched his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to agree to the promise she'd already made. "Yes, I a'm a woman of my word."

Satisfied, he nodded and turned back to the task of hand, and Elizabeth knew he was going to spend the next hour thinking of how she promised to do dirty things to him (maybe even in the church parking lot) if he did this for her.

Of course, then he negotiated that the dirty things just _had_ to involve her mouth, and she knew the very moment she agreed they were going to hell.

Well, at least she was.

"Ms. Webber and Mr. Morgan?" Elizabeth looked over to see a short, older man with messy gray hair walking over to them, a polite smile on his face. "Yes, I'd recognize a Webber anywhere, I think."

"Father Williams," she said, squeezing Jason's hand reassuringly only to find that he was in fact sweating more than he was just minutes ago. "This is Jason. And please, call me Elizabeth."

"Very nice to meet you," he grinned, shaking both of their hands. Elizabeth could have sworn he arched an eyebrow as he shook Jason's hand, and she wondered if they would lose points for sweaty hands.

Was there even a point system?

She'd been rather stressed out about all of this for the last week, so much that she asked Lulu how their meeting had gone, and she told Elizabeth that it was easier than she imagined. She said Johnny surprised her with some of his comments to the priest, but Elizabeth had a feeling Jason wasn't going to be as forthcoming. He was private enough when it came to his feelings for her whereas Johnny could charm anyone. Jason would just be uncomfortable, which meant that she was going to have to think like Lulu to get them through this. That meant knowingKnow the right responses, the perfect quips, and paste apasting a pearly smile on her face, even if it killed her.

"How are your parents?" he asked, motioning for them to follow him to his office.

She hated when people asked about her parents, and she couldn't lie and pretend everything was all fine and dandy when they were in a church, so she gave him the most honest answer she could.

"Still married.," Elizabeth joked, grimacing as she looked over at Jason.

"That's always good to hear," Father Williams replied, closing the door behind them. "So many people get married when they aren't ready, which is why I always like to meet with couples."

"I imagine you're an expert by now with as many people as marry," she commented, smoothing out her skirt before sitting down on the leather couch.

Sighing, Jason tugged at his tie and sat down beside her, draping one arm over the back of it, his fingers curling into the shoulder of her blouse. She reached over and patted his knee, knowing it was going to take more than one round of getting down on her knees for him to forgive her for this.

Shit.

She couldn't even sit in a church without thinking dirty thoughts.

And now she was swearing to herself.

Cringing, she leaned against Jason, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and prayed that God would get them through this.

**********

It was a very, very good thing that Elizabeth could do fine things with her mouth, otherwise Jason might not ever forgive her for this.

OkayYeah, technically it wasn't her fault that they were sitting in a room being judged by a man that neither of them had ever met, who just happened to know know both of their families _extremely_ well. So much well in fact that he knew where Elizabeth's parents were doing charity work overseass and raved about how the Quartermaines were helping them add space onto their home for girls and boys, sand Jason found it amusing that their parents were helping other children after turning their backs on their own..

"You seem to have done quite well for yourself, Jason," Father Williams commented, not missing a beat when Jason admitted that he had little to do with his former family. "It takes a strong man to leave home and become what you have."

Clearing his throat, he forced a painful smilesmile, the kind that looked like it physically hurt. "Thank you."

The priest seemed pleased by where they were individually in their life. He liked the idea of them having strong places in the world that gave them personal fulfillment as well as something they could share with one another.

Yeah.

Those were his exact words.

Jason suddenly felt like he was watching one of those fucking Lifetime movies Elizabeth loved so much.

Or worse, fucking Dr. Phil.

Shit.

Now he'd sworn twice in a church

Did it count if you swore in your head? .

He wasn't sure if he really believed in God – no offense to the man if he did existed, but Jasonhe liked to believe in something. It was a somewhat endearing possibility that there was someone looking out for the wellbeing of everyone alive, as well as the idea that there was someone a place to go after a person diedpeopled died. He liked that mostly because of Lila, the one person who deserved some kind of eternal happiness.

"Jason," Elizabeth said, patting him so tenderly on his thigh that he couldn't deny it made his pulse race.

Now he was thinking dirty things too.

They should have met somewhere outside where God wasn't listening.

Sure, God listened everywhere, but in a church, he would _really_ be listening – that was if he even existed.

"Yeah?" he asked, sighing heavily as he tried to focus on Father Williams' questions.

"I was just telling Father Williams about about how we started dating," she murmured, pinching his thigh in a scolding manner.

Suddenly, the blood wasn't rushing anymore.

He bit back a groan and nodded to the priest. "We were friends for a really long time," he said, looking over at Elizabeth with an awkward smile. "Best friends…and one day we just became something else."

Elizabeth blushed, her eyes falling to her lap, and he couldn't stop himself from thinking just how overwhelming beautiful she really was. This, like so many moments, was just another where she was doing the simplest of things and taking his breath away.

She nudged, biting back a laugh when Jason missed another question. He gave an apologetic smile as he looked at Father Williams, who didn't seem to mind Jason's distraction. In fact, Jason thought he even seemed pleased, but that was probably just his desire to cover his own ass because if he screwed this up, Elizabeth would never forgive him.

"I understand you two were engaged before, but broke it off," Father Williams said seriously, sitting up on the edge of his chair.

"Cold feet, I guess," Jason swallowed, shifting uncomfortably against the coldhard, leather couch. "I didn't think I wanted to get married, but Elizabeth…Well, she's changed my mind on a lot of things." The priest just nodded, clearly wanting more of an explanation. "We just…fit."

"I think we both sort of jumped the gun on marriage," Elizabeth spoke up, patting his thigh and giving him a warm smile. The blood started to rush again. "Marriage is a big step, and once we spent some time apart…" She shrugged and shifted her eyes back to Father Williams. "It feels right. I've never been surer of anything in my entire life."

Father Williams replied, but Jason was too busy looking at Elizabeth to pay attention to anything the man was saying. Like him, she was nervous, and it was obvious from the way she'd cross her legs, and then uncross, only to cross again, the hem of her skirt riding up just a little more each time. It may was only be up to her knee by now, but there was a time when men found ankles very sexy.

And Elizabeth Webber had the sexiest ankles, knees, and legs of all.

They were quite flexible too.

His brow crinkled as his eyes trailed up her legs, settling on her waist, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was wearing underwear. If there was a God, he hoped she was, because something about coming in a church was very, very dirty.

And sexy, so sexy that–

"Right, Jason?" She groaned under her breath, pinching his thigh again, and he jerked to attention as she cut off the rushing of blood yet again. "Father Williams asked what the most difficult part of our relationship was."

Judging from the look on Elizabeth's face, she'd already answered, but he'd been so busy admiring her legs. The distraction was her fault, not his. What else was he supposed to do when she was flashing skin in his direction?

"Um," he sighed, looking at the priest with an uncomfortable smile as he tried to think of an answer.

Really, there wasn't a side of their relationship that was too complicated. They didn't even fight much unless it revolved around who got control of the remote or who was doing the dishes. And most of those arguments ended with them naked on the floor (and sometimes against the wall) of whatever room they were in.

Just like how every argument should end.

Except not because God was listening and he didn't believe in premarital sex.

This was a very difficult situation to be in.

He grunted when Elizabeth pinched him again, and he nonchalantly slid his hand across his lap to cover hers, giving it an all too tight squeeze to which she managed to dig her sharp fingernails into his palm.

"I would say…" Sighing, he squeezed her hand even tighter, loosening when she let out a soft, uncomfortable laugh, but then she pounced and pinched his palm.

Yeah, he was definitely making her keep her promise as soon as they left the building.

Smiling again at Father Williams, he tried to think of an answer – well, what Elizabeth would have answered. They'd been friends for years and years despite their – oh, duh.

He was so fucking stupid.

Shit.

He glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged slightly, figuring that God might as well go ahead and send him straight to hell.

"My accident." Saying it aloud made him feel awkward, nervous even, because it was something that he and Elizabeth had laid to rest. They had a history, one he didn't remember, but nothing mattered more than the history they were making now. "Um…she stood by when not many other people did. She didn't give up on when I was angry or didn't remember. And she stayed and now…we're here."

He was starting to understand what it felt like to be on trial.

Father Williams muttered something to himself as he looked back and forth between them. "If two people can find their way through something as challenging as that, I'd like to think they can find their way through anything."

"Exactly," Elizabeth grinned, relaxing her hand beneath his to link their fingers together. She leaned forward seriously, her eyes soft, but stern, like they were when she was trying to get her away. It usually worked on Jason, but a priest wasn't thinking the same things he was when she wanted something. "I know that you and I talked about how Jason and I haven't been together for very long – less than a year, actually, but we're ready for this. We both have the same desires and wants for our life. Like Jason said, we just _fit_."

"I must admit," Father Williams sighed, shaking his head as he looked back and forth between them. "You remind me so much of your mother and father, Elizabeth. They were She was younger than you, but just as determined, and look at how things turned out for themher."

"Yes," she managed after taking a deep breath, glancing over at Jason as the corners of her mouth flinched in annoyance.

It didn't look like they were getting out of their parents' shadows anytime soon.

"I do look forward to seeing them at the wedding," he said, pushing himself up from his chair and holding his hand out to Elizabeth. "I'm honored that you've chosen to get married here, like your parents, and I hope that your children will one day do the same."

"Of course," she replied, shaking his hand as she got up from the couch.

Jason was too caught up in the mention of children to admire how her skirt slid back down her legs.

_Children? _

Fuck.

God was definitely testing him. Was God really trying to test him?

"Six weeks," Father Williams murmured, arching his eyebrows at Jason as he leaned over to shake his hand. "Will you have everything ready in time?"

"It won't be a problem," Elizabeth said, patting Jason on the shoulder and discreetly motioning for him to stand up. "I know you said we could look at the gardens and talk plans today, but would you mind if I made an appointment for later in that week?"

"Not at all," he replied, leading them out of his office. "It was very nice meeting you both. I look forward to your wedding." Elizabeth thanked him again, nudging Jason when he didn't, but he was still stunned.

Children?

Really?

FuckSon of a fucking bitch.

"Normally we suggest that our couples have some kind of counseling to make sure that you're on the same path," he suggested, and Elizabeth replied with something Jason didn't hear because he was still too focused on what was said in Father Williams' office.

So much in fact that he didn't even realize they were outside until Elizabeth was kicking him in the shin. "What?" he howled, glaring at her.

"Don't what me!" she hissed, tugging him away from the front of the building as if she expected the priest to be watching. "You are so awful, Jason!"

"Me?" he scoffed, shaking his head as they rounded the corner of the building and headed towards the parking lot. "You – you said-"

"Oh, God, we are _not_ having kids," she interrupted, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the car, waiting impatiently for him to unlock the doors. She opened the door and slid inside as soon as he did and he could hear her swearing at him as he walked around to the driver's side. Hopefully, God was tuning out because he should never hear the words coming from her pretty, little mouth. "They just want to know that if we do have kids, we'll raise them Catholic, and that was a pretty discreet way of asking."

"Oh," he said dumbly, sliding the key into the ignition and looking over at her. "I didn't hear that part." She just looked at him. "What? You said babies and churches and…Whatever."

He trailed off and leaned back against his seat expectantly. "Are you serious?" she asked, swatting him on the arm as she looked over her shoulder. "Jason, you didn't even try in there."

"I answered every question he asked," he defended, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, sure, the ones you managed to hear when you weren't thinking about me naked," Elizabeth replied smugly, daring him to deny it.

"I was-"

"I know you were," she cut in, leaning in towards him. "I know that look better than anyone. You can't even keep your mind clean for Jesus."

He couldn't help but laugh, which only infuriated her more, and before she moved, he pulled her into a kiss. She resisted for just a moment, but then he nipped at her lower lip with just the right amount of roughness that she liked, and she was putty in his hands.

"Jason," she groaned, rolling her head to the side as his mouth brushed over her cheek, towards her neck, and finally settled at on her pulse point, sucking so hard that she dug her nails into his scalp and practically literally had to tear tore him away. "How can sitting with a priest make you so horny?" He just shrugged, knowing part of her was going to see this as a challenge, and Elizabeth loved challenges, especially ones related to sex. "You're ridiculous."

Really, it didn't matter where she they were at when she did such good things with her mouth. At least if they were home, he could doze off afterwards, but there was something so appealing about where they were. And he could see in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing – yet one of the many reasons they were so damned compatible.

If only Father Williams knew.

Her tongued peeked out of the corner of her mouth to gently swipe over her lips. "God, Jesus, Mary, _and_ Joseph are watching."

"Yeah," he nodded, arching his eyebrows at her.

He was actually a little surprised when she leaned over and pulled his mouth to hers, giving into a temptation that would make all those people she mentioned blush. Her hand skimmed up his chest, then down, tugging on his tie in the process, and he groaned when her palm worked its way between her legs, cupping him firmly in her hand.

"This is crazy," she whispered against his mouth, her hand fumbling with his zipper so much that he finally shoved her hands out of the way and did it for her. Her lips trailed across his jaw line, touching the corner of his mouth, and just when they moved down his neck, he lost all resistance and gave her hair a slight tug.

She groaned, the soft, throaty kind that made him pull again, and when she pulled back to look at him, her eyes were as dark with desire as his own. "Jason," she panted, her eyes on him as she eased him from his dress pants, stroking him roughly in her hand. He skimmed his hand up and down her back, settling against the nape of her neck and tugging her hair one more time. "This is so bad."

"I know," he grunted, sucking in a breath when she slid down in the seat, the warmth of her breath causing his hips to arch up off the seat.

Instantly, her tongue darted out, flicking over the tip of his length, and he tightened his fingers in her hair. Her tongue stroked the underside of hims length, and then swirled around it, before flicking over the top again. Just when he thought he might lose it, her lips slipped over him completely, and he let out a long groan. His head fell back against the seat as her lips moved over him like a vice, starting out loose at the tip and tightening as they slid downward, her tongue swirling around him along the way.

"God," he groaned, untangling his fingers from her hair to replace it with the other hand, skimming the freed one down her back and beneath her shirt, craving the touch of her skin.

"Hmm," she murmured in agreement, causing his hips to buck as her mouth vibrated around him.

She tipped her head back enough to peek up at him with a smug grin, replacing her mouth with her hand and stroking him roughly as she caught her breath, and then took him in her mouth again. Between the roughness of her hand and the warmth of her mouth, he was spent, and he came seconds later, swearing as she sucked him hard, taking his release with enough eagerness that made him wonder if she hadn't wanted to do this all along.

Panting, she pushed herself up, laughing as she fell back against her seat. "We're going to hell."

He couldn't help but agree, figuring if he was going to hell, he was going to take someone fun like her with him.


	30. Chapter 30

**Attention Readers:**

I just wanted to let you all know that I will **no** longer be updating my fics on this site and that within the next couple weeks or so, I'll have the account removed in its entirety.

I have been having so many issues with uploading my documents from Word and the documents still containing tons of mistakes that aren't in the copy I have saved on my computer. I've tried countless ways of avoiding this, but it's still happening, and lately I've been getting lots of PMs/Emails/Comments about the lack of editing. It's as frustrating for me as it is for you to read, and I'm tired of not being able to fix it, especially when I spend so much time editing them.

I have a personal website with all my fanfics (as well as site exclusives) that you can find here linked on my author page. For some reason I couldn't link it here - just another reason to be pissed off with this site. You do have to register an account to read, but it only takes a few minutes. I send out email alerts every time a story is updated just like you receive on here or you can bookmark a thread to receive alerts when it's updated.

If you wish to continue reading the stories, you'll have to sign up for my site. I know it's inconvenient, but has proven to be more inconvenient than anything else for me, and I'm throwing in the towel.

Hopefully you're not too pissed off at me for doing this and I'll see you on the site.

Ambs


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